Spirit and Spunk
by YourEyesAreFullofHate41
Summary: Margaret Henry was one of nine women accepted into the new paratrooper program as an experiment for U.S. Military. She honestly didn't care how she was here; she just wanted to serve her country in the best way she knew how. She had no idea that she would come to find true friends and family along the way - as well as a potential love interest in her commanding officer. Mature
1. Introduction

**This story is based on the characters of the TV Show Band of Brothers, not the real heroes of Easy Company. I mean no disrespect to them in any way, shape, or form. I own the character of Margaret Henry.**

 **This is my first fanfiction is a very, very long time, and my first for Band of Brothers. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Margaret Henry was one of nine women accepted into the new paratrooper program as an experiment for U.S. Military. She honestly didn't care how she was here; she just wanted to serve her country in the best way she knew how.

Growing up, Margaret wasn't a typical girl dreaming of dances and dates, but she wasn't a tomboy either. She loved to be feminine, but she always found to be more comfortable around boys. Her best friend, David, had been with her since before either could remember. They got into all sorts of trouble together growing up, coming home dirty and barefoot. Girls always seemed to want to be quiet and clean, which she could understand, but that wasn't any fun.

Her mother had since given up on making her into a proper lady - that's what her sister Judy was for. Margaret could do no wrong in her father's mind, and he encouraged her to do what makes her happy.

Over the years, Margaret and David skipped around with different interests, including hunting, fishing, the fox trot, and once a complete failed attempt at baking a cake for David's thirteenth birthday. Margaret easily fell into a group of guys at school, and they accepted her as one of them. Every once and awhile one would get in his head to try and hit on her, but the repercussions of her sharp tongue usually prevented future encounters. Margaret has always been proud that she could hold her own among the boys.

* * *

Now she was doubting herself. Not her abilities as a soldier, but her inability to hold her tongue. She couldn't afford to get the these boys against her.

Margaret walked to the designated women's barracks and stepped inside. She immediately grinned. She saw her fellow women soldiers getting ready for their appointment, and she couldn't be prouder or to be a part of a better group. She was hesitant at first when she found out that she had to begin her basic training only with these fellow eight women as a test to see if they could stand the challenge of joining a company of male soldiers. Not one of them gave up; they each passed the year of training with flying colors.

"Maggie! Where have you been? Sink is a strict man of the clock, as you know," shouted Helen.

Margaret shrugged. "I've been ready for hours, Helen. I see you just rolled out from the mess hall. I can smell the stink of those beans on you from here."

Helen chuckled and nodded. "That's fair. I just hope my new CO doesn't smell them. Can you imagine running Currahee because I reek?"

Betsy cleared her throat. "OK ladies, let's move out!"

The nine women walked towards Colonel Sink's office. Today was the day they would each separately join a company and go under command of a new CO. Each breathless with nerves, they entered the building.

After a short wait, Colonel Sink invited them into a larger room. Inside several officers stood at ease. Margaret and the other women lined up across from the men with Colonel Sink walking up and down between them.

"Ladies, first I would like to congratulate you all on passing your first year of training. I couldn't be prouder to welcome you into the 506th Infantry." The Colonel smiled, looking at each individually before moving on.

"You will now each be assigned to one of nine companies as per the agreement you signed one year ago. Each company is fine and strong in its own way, and I trust that you will fit in well." He turned towards the officers. "And I expect all troopers to accept these fine soldiers as they would any other paratrooper that graces our country. Am I understood?"

All the officers responded, "Yes, sir!"

The Colonel smiled. "Good. Here are your assignments ladies." One by one, he read each private's name and then introduced her to her commanding officers.

"Private Margaret Henry, you will be joining Easy company led by 1st Lieutenant Sobel and 2nd Lieutenants Nixon and Winters." He gestured to three men in the center of the group.

Margaret looked over. The first man, dark and stiff, looked through her with a grimace. _Great_ , Margaret thought. She glanced to the other two. The next had dark, wavy hair and a giant grin. She returned a small smile, and looked to the final officer. Tall and red-headed, she took in his kind face. He didn't smile, but nodded to her in a reassuring way. Margaret nodded back.

After Colonel Sink finished with the assignments, he motioned to them. "Well, I'm off. Please get to know each other. Ladies, you are to report to training with your new companies tomorrow at 0700." Each soldier saluted the Colonel, and he saluted back before leaving.

Margaret hesitantly made her way to the Lieutenants. She stood at attention in front of all three and saluted them. Nixon and Winters returned the salute, but Sobel simply looked her up and down with the sneer and rushed out of the room.

Nixon stepped forward and offered his hand. "Lieutenant Lewis Nixon, it's a pleasure to meet you. Don't mind Sobel. He'll get over it."

Margaret smiled thankfully."Thank you, Lieutenant. I am happy to meet you as well."

Nixon waved her off. "Everyone calls me Nix, unless the brass is around. Please feel free as well."

Winters stepped forward. Margaret held out her hand and he took it with a small smile. She noticed his hand to be cool and dry, but also firm. She couldn't stand when men thought they were going to break her delicate feminine bones if they dared to give her a proper handshake.

"Lieutenant Dick Winters. Welcome to Easy company. We are very happy to have you."

She smile broadened. "Thank you, sir, both of you. I am very proud to be placed with Easy company. I have heard that it's the best one there is by far."

Winters grinned lopsidedly. "Most likely said by someone of Easy company, but true all the same. We have some fine soldiers."

Margaret laughed. "I can't wait to meet them."


	2. Say Hello to Easy

Margaret took a deep breath. Today was the day she had been looking forward to, but also fearing. Today she was to be introduced into Easy Company. This was her goal, her dream, achieved, but she worried about the boys. Would they accept her? She knew the Army was an ancient brotherhood - how would they feel about a sister?

She knew the Easy barracks were on the other side of the base, so she made her way outside before the other women. Outside a jeep waited with a slim soldier at the wheel.

 _Uh oh, he looks like trouble_ , Margaret thought to herself. He grinned when he saw her, and leaned his right arm over the back of the front seat and gave her a wink. _Yep, definitely trouble_.

She raised an eyebrow and proceeded to walk around past the jeep and towards the center of the base.

"Wait! Ma'am, are you Private Margaret Henry?" the young soldier cried.

Margaret turned and walked to him. "Yes, I am. Who are you?"

His cocky grin returned as he held out a hand. "George Luz, Easy Company. I'm your ride."

Margaret's other eyebrow rose as she crossed her arms. "Excuse me?"

Luz's smile faltered a bit, his hand returning to the wheel. "Lieutenant Winters asked me to pick you up this morning since it's such a hike to our corner of base."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, what a _chivalrous_ thing to do." Luz's eyes widened; her tone didn't agree with her statement. "Let me ask you, George, if you needed to go to another far corner of the base, would the good Lieutenant secure a ride for you?"

Luz coughed nervously. "No ma'am, but I believe he was just being friendly. You know, a welcoming gesture."

Margaret chewed on her bottom lip, deep in thought. She surprised Luz by walking to the other side of the jeep and hopping into the passenger seat. "Sorry George, I'm a little nervous about today. I just want to be considered like everyone else without any fair or unfair treatment. I didn't mean to bite off your head." She held out her hand to him.

Luz looked down at her hand and his broad grin returned. He eagerly took her hand and shook it. "No problem, Mags. I get it." He turned on the engine and put the jeep in gear. She looked at him in surprise at the quick nickname, and he winked. She couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

The quick ride seemed to go by even quicker as Luz delighted her with an impersonation of Colonel Sink. "I can't wait for your first day to be over and you get to know Sobel," he cackled. "I do a mean Sobel."

She giggled and they walked together over to the group of men in front of the Easy barracks. Lieutenants Winters and Nixon were deep in conversation in the front. Sobel was nowhere to be found, but she wasn't interested in the officers at the moment. She took a deep breath and followed Luz to a small group of men near the back.

One shorter man with a strong, square jaw looked her up and down and wolf whistled. "Georgie, what did you bring us this fine morning? If I had known this delicious specimen was coming, I wouldn't have eaten breakfast." He winked suggestively to her.

Margaret raised one eyebrow and proceeded to look him up and down. "George, you know I am also regretting breakfast. Looking at this boy is making me sick."

The shorter man roared with laugher as the other guys chuckled and patted him on the back in sympathy. "I like this broad," he said to the other guys. He turned to her, still chuckling, and held out his hand. "Bill Guarnere. Pleased to meet you."

Margaret grinned and shook his hand. "Margaret Henry. Please call me Maggie." Luz then introduced her to the surrounding men: Don Malarkey, Joe Toye, and Shifty Powers.

Spar for spar, Margaret kept up, keeping the guys roaring with laughter. Her face hurt from grinning so much. She happened to look up and see Lieutenant Winters looking her way. He gave her an encouraging nod and she returned it. The relief she felt by being accepted, even by this small group, was palpable.

Then Sobel arrived. He started shouting, "You people are at the position of attention!"

Immediately, they lined up and stood up straight, eyes front. Sobel stopped every so often to comment on a small flaw and to revoke a weekend pass. Margaret knew that there was no way he would pass her by, and she was right.

Sobel slowly made his way right up to her, his warm breath permeating her face. Their eyes were level with one another, but Margaret keep her eyes straight ahead, as if he wasn't blocking her view.

"Our newest addition," Sobel murmured. "Private, what is your name?" he asked louder.

"Private Margaret Henry, sir!"

Sobel's eyes roamed her face and then down her body. "Private Henry, if you hope to make it with Easy company, I suggest you try and cover any resemblance of your inferior sex as to not distract my men." His eyes remained below her eyes. "Not that there is much to distract," he smirked.

A few men snickered. Margaret's face burned crimson. She could feel anger bubbling in her throat. "Sorry sir. I'll try and hide my breasts. I know it must have been awhile since you've seen any."

Many snickers now ran through the group, and Margaret smirked when Sobel turned his head to yell for silence. He turned back to her, his black eyes dangerous. "Pass revoked, Private. Another outburst like that, and I will make sure you never step foot in Easy company again."

Sobel turned away and yelled, "We're running Currahee - get changed. Three miles up, three miles down!" He looked back at her glowering. "And let's see if our newest Private can keep up to Easy standards."

Luz whistled, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they headed to the barracks. "Damn Mags, if I didn't know you were a woman, I would swear that you had the biggest…"

"Luz! Watch your mouth, we have a lady with us now," reminded Malarkey, running to her other side.

Margaret turned and grinned. "What lady, Malarkey? I'm an Easy company soldier! Afraid I'll outcuss you while I outrun you?"

Guarnere ran in front of them, cackling. He pointed his thumb back to them, "I knew I liked this broad."

Margaret grinned and hurried to the barracks to change. _I think this will work_ , she thought happily.


	3. Up and Over

Over the next several weeks, Margaret got closer to the boys and became part of their family. Although she still slept and showered in the women's barracks, the boys made a privacy corner for her in the Easy barracks so that she could change in and out of PT gear without running across base each time.

Margaret was encouraged daily by her peers to keep going, to keep getting stronger. They cheered each other on when Sobel wasn't looking. Margaret, a natural runner and hiker, supported her fellow trooper up Currahee when they needed a helping hand. They in turn pushed her when they marched in full gear for miles on end. Margaret was tall and strong for her gender, but that gear was incredibly heavy.

The only one that hadn't accepted her, and she expected he never would, was Sobel. Although her comment on her first day gained respect amongst her fellow troopers, she knew that Sobel wouldn't forget her sharp tongue anytime soon. Margaret had been doing well keeping it in check, but a few times she almost got herself in trouble again. Particularly on the day he forced them to run after a spaghetti dinner.

Sobel was keen to each soldier's weakness, and Margaret was no exception. He could read her face that the march was excruciating for her. He made it a constant punishment for her to march an extra twelve miles in full gear if she so much as stepped a toe out of line.

After a few months in, on a particular hot spring day, she marched alongside Shifty. Shifty was a slight young man, and he also had trouble with the weight of the gear. She glanced at him. "Shifty, what are you doing drinking from your canteen? You know Sobel is bound to find out and you'll have to march it all over again!"

Shifty grimaced. "I know Maggie, I just can't seem to stop. I'm parched!"

Margaret frowned. "Give it here." She took his canteen and uncapped hers as well. She poured half of her water into his, then handed it back to him.

Shifty looked at her in wonder. "What did you do that for? Now you'll get in trouble too!"

Margaret smiled softly. "Maybe. But at least we can march together." Shifty grinned, embarrassed.

Unbeknownst to either of them, their second lieutenant witnessed the entire encounter.

Sure enough, Sobel noticed, and Margaret, Shifty and a few others repeated the twelve mile hike. Surprisingly, Winters accompanied them. Margaret started dragging at about the halfway point and ended in the back of the pack. Winters slowed to march alongside her.

"Good evening, sir. Nice night for a walk, isn't it?"

Winters' smile flashed in the dark. "Indeed, Private." They marched silently for awhile. "You know, Margaret, I don't believe I saw you drink from your canteen once."

Margaret smiled softly at hearing her first name. Winters always managed to make his soldiers at ease at the right moment. She sincerely thought he cared for his men. "I didn't realize you took my potential dehydration so seriously."

He looked over at her, and he saw her eyes were twinkling. "I was referring to you giving half of your water to Shifty."

She looked up to the night sky and laughed. "I know, sir. I was jesting." She looked at him with a side eye.

He grinned. "I guess I need to loosen up a bit. Nix is always telling me to."

Margaret's smiled deepened. "Maybe you can help me watch my tongue and I can help you with a few jokes."

Winters laughed, "Nix would appreciate that." They grinned to each other and marched on.

* * *

The weeks flew by. Margaret found out she was a decent shot, thanks to pointers from Shifty. Her body got stronger, as did her resolve to conquer the rest of basic training. Every exercise was one more hurdle completed before jump training.

The one exercise Easy company particularly excelled at was the ropes course. They worked effortlessly as a team to ensure every member finished every obstacle. The small groups attacking the course rotated frequently so that each member had the opportunity to work with and succeed with every other member of Easy.

Today Margaret's team consisted of Guarnere, Lipton, Luz, Miller and Lieutenant Winters. Quickly they trudged through the first ropes course, keeping their knees high. Next they cheered each other along crawling under barbed wire. Deep into a mud pit, pulling and digging each other to the end. Up and over together on the bars. At the end, the log wall.

Margaret first helped push Luz and Miller up so they they could get to the top of the wall and help pull up Lipton. Margaret was next, quickly standing of Winters' shoulders so she could then scurry up the wall.

As she waited for a hand from Luz, Margaret couldn't help but notice how strong the Lieutenant's hands felt on her bare legs. His fingers could easily wrap around her slim calves. As if he could read her mind, she felt his fingers slide down her smooth skin until he could hoist up her booted ankle and then foot.

She momentarily forgot her mission. "Mags!" Luz yelled. "Quit daydreaming and get your cute butt up here!"

Margaret shook herself out of it, grabbed Luz's hand, and climbed to the top. She turned and reached out a hand to Guarnere and then to Winters to help pull them up. They easily crossed the finish line right after.

Margaret bent over trying to catch her breath. She peered at Luz. "George, you think my butt is cute?"

Luz laughed, his cheshire grin growing. Guarnere chuckled, walked away from them with Miller muttering, "Me thinks Lieutenant Winters thought her ass was cute. She was above him for ages."

The guys laughed together walking to get a shower. Margaret looked back at Winters to see his cheeks pink as he tried to remove mud from his boots.

Margaret couldn't help herself. It was as if her tongue had a life of its own. "Is the good Lieutenant blushing?" she teased.

Winters looked up. His blush only deepened but he laughed. Walking away shaking his head, he said, "That tongue of yours, Private." He headed to the men's showers, leaving her blushing a bit herself.


	4. Shower Encounter

The excitement in the air was electric. They were transferring to Fort Benning to begin jump training. All nine women did well over the last several months, and all nine would be graduating to the next step. They talked endlessly about how the first jump would feel. The women's barracks had a lot to celebrate.

What the women's barracks didn't have was hot water. Their showers were abandoned a long time ago, and no one checked to see if they were in full working order before the women moved in.

"I can't do it," said Helen after a week. "I can't take another second under that icy water. I rather smell than try it again."

"Maybe this is the way to keep Lieutenant Spiers off your back!" Jane giggled.

Betsy shrugged, "Maintenance promised it would be fixed sometime next week."

Margaret snorted. It was time to try something else.

* * *

Like Luz assured her, the men's showers were unlocked and thankfully empty when Margaret arrived. Her stomach growled, and she knew she might regret skipping dinner, but a hot shower was too good to pass up. Plus the boys were starting to comment on a smell. Right now, they're blaming Randleman for the stench, but it was only a matter of time before they realized it was coming from her.

To be safe, she went to the farthest and darkened corner in case anyone happened to walk in. Her bare feet silently made their way on the cool concrete. Stripping quickly out of her tee, PT shorts and skivvies, she tested the hot water. When the steamy air quickly engulfed her, she grinned and proceeded to drown herself underneath the showerhead.

Margaret just finished pulling on her clothes before focusing on towel drying her long auburn hair. _Maybe George saved me a roll or two_ , she thought wistfully. The hot shower was more than enough to lift her spirits, and she quietly hummed a tune that she couldn't name.

Suddenly, she heard another shower turn on. She snapped her head towards the sound, and silently rounded to see who may have arrived. It wasn't like Margaret hadn't seen a man naked before. Her fellow Easy men certainly weren't shy in stripping down in front of her - well, after a few weeks at least.

Her eyes widened - there before her, just a stone's throw away, was a very sweaty and most decidedly almost-bare Lieutenant Dick Winters. She searched the area and her heart plummeted. He just so happened to choose the shower closest to the exit, making an undetected escape impossible.

She opened her mouth to alert him of her presence, especially before his PT shorts came off, but then snapped it shut again. His back was to her, and she couldn't help but admire the lean and taut muscles of his shoulders and his firm lower back. Her eyes were just about finished imagining what lay below the fine muscles near his hips when it happened. Winters removed his PT shorts and stepped underneath the stream of water.

Stunned, Margaret gaped at the sight of her bare-assed Lieutenant, before squeaking and covering her eyes with her hands. "Lieutenant Winters, sir!"

Winters stepped from the shower and turned towards her. "Private Henry, is that you?"

Margaret nodded vigorously, hands still covering her eyes before she remembered to respond. "Yes, sir, I'm sorry to bother you." She gulped, trying to forget what she saw.

Winters craned his neck. "Private, what are you doing in the men's showers?"

Margaret sighed, "The women's boiler refuses to work. I broke in to take a shower while everyone was at dinner. I thought it was safest." She paused. "I guess I was wrong, sir."

Winters chuckled softly. "Well, I don't blame you." He looked away and to the ceiling, remembering to avert his eyes. "Are you decent? I can't see you from here. If you were striving for complete obscurity in your mission for a hot shower, you quite succeeded. You could teach us a thing or two about camouflage."

 _Nothing about this situation is funny_ , she thought miserably. Margaret took a deep breath. "Yes, sir, I am decent." She paused several beats. "But you're not."

Winters looked down and quickly jumped to grab his towel. He wrapped it around his hips. "It's safe, Private."

Margaret slowly lowered her hands and walked towards the front of the room, towel draped over one arm and her eyes looking anywhere but Winters. He had to grin - she looked completely adorable with her damp hair tangled over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and eyes diverted. He'd grown so used to her hair hidden away in a bun. He realized her hair was rather lovely.

He knew that he should be mortified, but somehow he could only find this situation hilarious. "Margaret, I would have thought by now you were very comfortable with the male body. I know that your fellow troopers aren't shy - I've seen for myself how you handle their lack of modesty," Winters said, trying to catch her eye.

Margaret peered over at him for a moment, but a moment was too long. She quickly looked away again, straight ahead. "Yes, sir. My comrades aren't afraid to flaunt what God gave them. And what He didn't give them."

Winters let out a loud, short laugh. He looked down, rubbing his jaw, his smile wide. Margaret dared another look at him again, but immediately regretted it. Water droplets clung to his broad chest. She couldn't help but notice his strong shoulders and slim hips. His towel looked thin.

 _Wrong!_ She screamed internally. _He's your superior office! Look away! Look away, woman!_

He looked up, and she immediately turned away again, her face burning an even darker shade of crimson.

His clear blue eyes danced with amusement. He honestly didn't know what had gotten into him, but it was like someone else was taken over his body - and his tongue. He took a small step forward, still more than an arm's length from her, but he could feel the heat radiating off her. He spoke in a low, mocking voice, "Is the good Private blushing?"

Margaret snapped her eyes to his. Brown to blue. Her teeth ground into her bottom lip as she contemplated her options. Now was not the time for her sharp tongue to make an appearance.

With as much dignity as she could muster, she took a deep breath and said "Yes, sir." And then without another word, she ran from the room, her bare feet slapping on the wet floor.

Winters watched her leave, chuckling quietly to himself, but then frowning. _What has gotten into me?_ Nixon must be rubbing off on him. Or maybe her liveliness is. This playful banter was definitely not him. But he couldn't help but smile again as he thought about her graceful bare legs running from the room.


	5. Jump Day

It had been quite a few interesting months. Winters thought over his time in Camp Toccoa and now here in Fort Benning. He was so proud of his men - and woman - for surviving everything that Sobel threw at them. Their first of five test jumps began in a matter of a few hours, and Winters knew from there on their lives would only change more - for better or worse.

Deep in thought, Winters didn't see an approaching Nixon until his friend threw an arm around his shoulders, startling him. "Dick, I never thought I'd see the day when you could overthink your overthinking," he joked. "Wait, nevermind. I placed a bet that exactly this would happen. Thanks!"

Winters rolled his eyes. "I have a lot on my mind."

Nixon grinned, nudging Winters in the ribs. "Tactical operations training, or maybe a willowy brunette with legs for days?"

Winters huffed, and shrugged Nixon off. "Private Henry is one of my paratroopers and nothing more. I see her as a soldier, not a woman. My only thoughts for her are to make sure she completes her training and that she survives the turmoils of war."

Nixon jogged up to catch up to his friend, chuckling, throwing his arm around his shoulders again. He removed his canteen and took a slug from it. "I was talking about Hoobler, but, yeah, I guess Henry has nice legs, too." His grin wide, his eyes dancing.

Winters stared at his friend before shaking his head in perplexity. "Come on, I want to make sure everything is prepared before our first jump."

* * *

Margaret always considered herself a little fearless. Not today. Fear was eating her up inside.

She sat next to Luz on the plane as they flew higher and higher into the air for their first jump into a local field below. She could feel her eyes drying and her muscles cramping. Winters sat diagonal from them, peering every now and then to make sure she was okay. He could tell other soldiers were nervous, but she looked ready to jump from her skin.

Luz took her hand in his. "Mags, you're officially bugging out. Your eyes are as wide as saucers, and your hand is cold and clammy," he shouted over the noise of the flight.

Margaret huffed, still not closing her eyes but looking straight ahead into Randleman's mustache. "Thanks, George. Great talk."

"Well, your bugging out is making me bug out!" he cried. "We're about to jump out of a plane for Christ's sake! What the hell was I thinking!" Margaret had enough of her sense still to roll her eyes before latching back onto the mustache.

Then Margaret felt her other hand being taken. The hand was warm, calloused, and steady. She immediately felt a calming presence. She blinked and looked to her right at Eugene Roe.

"Maggie, you're going to be fine. We are all going to land safely. I bet you even have a little fun," he said.

Margaret smiled softly. "Thanks, Eugene. You know, you are going to be a great medic. Your presence alone is so soothing." Roe smiled, hanging his head bashfully.

Winters smiled at the interaction, and then noticed the red light. "OK, get ready!"

Immediately, Margaret could feel her lunch moving wildly in her belly. She stood, her knees wobbling, but otherwise steady. They sounded off for equipment check - it was time.

The light turned green and she heard Winters cry out something, but her ears felt blocked with cotton. She simply followed the man before her, and then it was her turn to jump.

 _Am I absolutely mad?_ was her last thought before she threw herself out of the plane.

At first the rushing air seemed to swallow her scream. She wasn't even sure if she was making a sound. _I am mad,_ she thought. Then she took a moment to look around at the view surrounding her. She smiled widely. _And I love it._

She landed softly, rolling slightly to protect her ankles. Margaret sat up in wonder.

"Nicely done, Maggie," the soft voice of Roe behind her. He helped her collect her parachute.

"Eugene, it was like something in a dream," she exclaimed. "I've never felt so free and alive!"

Winters walked up to them. "Everything ok, you two?" he asked. Margaret turned towards his voice, and he was taken aback by her bright eyes and flushed cheeks. He didn't think he had ever seen her more beautiful.

 _When did she become beautiful to me?_ he thought anxiously.

Her cheeks started to hurt after smiling so much. "More than ok, sir. That was exhilarating! When is the next jump?"

Roe smiled. "You won't have to wait long. I heard that we have another two today and then the remaining two tomorrow. Is that correct, sir?"

Winters tore his gaze from Margaret before replying. "That's correct, Doc. Once we are set, we'll take off again." He paused, glancing at Margaret again before turning away. "Excuse me, I need to check on everyone else."

Margaret was too excited to notice any tension, but Roe followed the Lieutenant curiously with his eyes.

* * *

The second and third jump didn't disappoint. Each became more thrilling than the last. Her nerves on the flights disappeared, and she dedicated her time on board to encouraging those that still held some fear.

"Malarkey, don't think about the height," she said to the shivering man to her right. "Think about how exciting this experience will seem to your little brother in your next letter. Think about him and you'll do fine."

Malarkey smiled at her, his head bent over near his knees. "Thanks, Maggie. That does help."

The next day, on their final jump that would determine if they graduated as a paratrooper, Margaret volunteered to jump first.

She grinned when the green light flashed. "See you on the ground, boys!" She jumped happily.

She took in the view, knowing that this was the last time a peaceful jump may ever happen. _The next jump will be in enemy territory_ , she shivered. Deep in thought, she came to the ground faster than expected, not allowing herself enough time to tuck her legs properly.

Her right ankle met the ground hard, rolling at an awkward angle. She gasped. _No - this can't be happening. I can't fail!_

She quickly knelt on the ground, allowing her ankle some rest while she collected her parachute. Guarnere landed softly next to her.

"Hey beautiful, land ok?" he smiled.

Margaret smiled back. "Yes, Bill, and you?"

"Like clockwork," he said. "Let me take your chute. Are you coming? The party starts in an hour or so."

Margaret waved him off. "Thanks, Bill. I'll be right there. My heart needs a moment to settle."

She waited for her remaining company men to start back towards the trucks before standing. She tested some weight on her bad ankle and hissed. _Come on girl, pain is nothing compared to war_ , she thought.

After a few more moments, Margaret was able to start walking with only the slightest limp. She hoped it wasn't noticeable - all she needed was Sobel to see and report her injury. He would do anything for her to fail.

One man did notice. Winters could see something was wrong, but he had to admire her spirit as she walked to the trucks, albeit gradually. Luz grabbed her hand and pulled her in.

"Dick, let's go!" called Nixon. Winters jogged to another truck, and they were on their way back to base.

Margaret made sure to take her time getting off the truck. It helped that so many of her friends could be fine gentlemen when they put their mind to it. Toye and Randleman helped her down, and the men started heading towards the showers to clean up for the party.

Margaret took a deep breath and started towards her showers. "Private Henry, wait up." Margaret turned towards Winters as he jogged to her side.

"Hi, sir, what can I do for you?" she asked.

He glanced at her face before raising an eyebrow. "You can go to Doc Roe and get that ankle checked out, that's what you can do."

Margaret blanched. She stuttered, "Sir, I...my ankle is fine. I don't need to see Doc."

Winters stopped her walking with a hand on her shoulder. He looked into her eyes and said, "Margaret, I saw that you hurt your ankle when you landed." She bit her lip; she could feel hot tears starting to build in her eyes.

He squeezed her shoulder. "It's fine, I won't report the injury, and I'm sure you can count on Doc not to either. It's obviously not very serious, but I can't have you abroad in anything but perfect condition." His stopped and grinned. "Besides, there's a party tonight. And I heard Luz is selling dances with you to all of Easy company."

Margaret's jaw dropped. "He did NOT! Oh, I am going to kill George!" She made a motion to stomp her foot, before remembering that her ankle was injured.

Winters chuckled and dropped his hand. They started walking slowly together towards the medical tent. "From what I overheard, it's true. I promise not to court martial you either. This murder is justified."

Margaret laughed, wincing slightly as her ankle throbbed. "Captain Sobel will find out it was me anyway. You may have an ability to overhear interesting conversations, but I swear that man can read minds."

Winters realized as they walked that this was the first time they had been alone since the infamous shower incident. He was pleased to find that she wasn't terrified of his presence anymore. Granted, he was fully clothed.

They arrived at the tent to find Roe finishing his evening inventory check of supplies. "Doc, Margaret hurt her ankle in the last jump. I have advised her to have you look at it, but I don't think it's necessary to waste paper on reporting the injury. Would you agree?" Winters asked.

Roe and Winters helped her onto the table. He turned to him and said, "I agree, sir. Paper may become scarce in the battlefield. We had better save up."

Winters offered them a small smile. "Good." He nodded to both of them and turned to go.

Roe looked back at Margaret with a strict glance. "You are one lucky woman, do you know that? If that was anyone but Winters, you would be out of here. Mind you, I hope you would have come to me no matter what."

Margaret sighed. "Eugene, now would be an excellent time to fix me up. I need to go murder a fellow trooper."

Roe smiled. "Luz, huh? I was hoping for a dance tonight from you, but if I need to pay the man, I will."

"Eugene Roe!"


	6. Moonlight Becomes You

"George Luz!"

George turned to the sound of his name and smiled brightly. "Mags! Glad you're here, take a seat! Here - have a beer."

Margaret stomped over to him. With the tight bandage Roe gave her plus some aspirin, she found that she didn't feel any pain. Although she would have preferred her boots to hide the evidence, she was pleasantly surprised to find her tanned stockings hid the nude bandage well. Colonel Sink required dress uniforms for this occasion, and her skirt and heels were mandatory.

Luz tried to hand her the pint, but cowered a bit when he saw the look in her eyes. His smile faltered, "Ma-Mags, how are you? You're looking very pretty tonight."

Guarnere poked his head next to Luz and looked down to her legs. "Damn honey, who knew all you needed was a skirt and a pair of heels to become a lady?" The other guys chuckled appreciatively.

Margaret ignored them and continued to glare at Luz. "Luz, I'm going to ask you this once. Did you sell dances with me to everyone in this room?"

Luz gulped. "Well, you know, Mags, that's not entirely accurate." Her eyes narrowed. "When you say _everyone_ , that's just very farfetched." He paused, sweating. "Most bids were from Easy company, and, you know, maybe Able or Fox here and there."

Margaret crossed her arms and tapped her fingers. Luz waited, his eyes wide. Finally, she huffed, "I get half of the earnings." Luz lit up. "And you're buying my drinks all night."

Luz grinned, giving her a side hug. "You won't regret this, Mags! All great guys. They just want a nice girl to dance with. You know, you - and your friends."

Margaret raised an eyebrow. "You did this to the other ladies as well?"

Luz shooked his head quickly. "Of course not!" He paused. "Their companies are handling their dances."

Awestruck, Margaret shook her head. "George Luz, I may not regret this, but, I promise you, one day you will."

Luz grinned again. "Looking forward to it. Cheers!"

Margaret shook her head again, but smiled. "Cheers, Luz."

* * *

Margaret was three dances in and five beers deep. After a celebratory speech from Colonel Sink, she and her ladies alternated between dancing, drinking, and commiserating between themselves. Helen flat out refused to dance with any man that paid for a dance, leaving a long line of disappointed men in her wake. Margaret half-wished that she did the same.

 _Oh well_ , she thought. _It hasn't been that bad._ Then she remembered the awkward dance with Hall from Able company and cringed. _Not great either._

Luz came to her side with another beer - his sign to her that the next dance partner was coming up. She gave him another dark look before downing the drink. He patted her back and left with a thumbs up.

A song by Harry James began. "Why Private Henry," called Lieutenant Nixon. He walked to her side and held out his hand. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" He smiled brightly, his eyes devilish.

Margaret's eyebrows popped up. "Sir, you're my next dance?" She placed her hand in his and he led her to the dance floor.

Nixon's smile deepened. "I couldn't miss my opportunity to boast that I got to dance with the prettiest girl at the ball, now could I?"

She ducked her head and grinned. Embarrassed, she could feel her cheeks flush. "You only need to ask next time, Nix. I am happy to dance with you."

Nixon laughed. "Better than some of those awkward boys you've had to endure at least, huh? You can now tell everyone you got to dance with a grown and somewhat mature intelligence officer."

Margaret laughed, throwing her head back. "Not to mention a Yale man, Lieutenant."

* * *

Winters watched from the corner while Nixon danced with Margaret. Parties and bars were not typically his scene. Rowdy Easy boys outdrinking one another was just somewhat annoying, not to mention too crowded for his liking. He would come with Nixon occasionally just to appease his friend. Besides, Colonel Sink said his presence tonight was mandatory.

Tonight was different in another way. He had never felt the rock of emotion in his stomach like this before. Watching Nixon making her laugh, his hand on her waist, and hers on his shoulder, he could feel his jaw clench. He tried to keep his face impassive, something he was usually good at, but tonight it was another story.

After what seemed like an eternity, the song finally ended. Nixon walked her back to her seat with the other ladies, and tipped a quick salute to her. She mock saluted back and laughed out loud again; he could hear it from his corner. Nixon smirked and turned to come back to Winters.

Nixon took his drink from the table and finished what remained. "That one's a firecracker. I bet she could take down all the German forces single handedly with only her wit." He noticed his quiet friend's appearance. "Jeez, Dick, who died?"

Winters remained quiet. Nixon's eyes widened and he shook his head. "No really, who died? This is a party for crying out loud! Time to live a little!"

Winters sighed and looked away from his friend. Nixon followed Winters' eyes and saw them to be directed at the ladies' table. They both watched as Luz came over and handed Margaret another beer, which she downed instantly. Sighing with regret, she braced herself for what was coming next.

Taking the seat next to Winters, Nixon attempted to hide his grin. "Margaret is a fine soldier. I'm proud to say she is a part of Easy, aren't you?"

Winters looked to his friend and smiled. _Safe conversation_ , he thought. Nodding he replied, "She is a very fine soldier. I trust that she will be a great asset to all her fellow soldiers."

Nixon agreed, "And to her officers, I'm sure." Winters nodded absently.

They watched as a gangly trooper from another company came up to Margaret and asked her to dance. She smiled kindly and took his hand to the floor.

It soon became apparent that this trooper was fairly drunk, and his hands started to wander. Margaret continually forced them back to her waist, but he couldn't take a hint. Winters stood up quickly, his eyes blazing dark blue in anger, and started to walk towards the pair.

Right as he was about pull the trooper off her, he heard a yip, and the next moment the arm of the trooper was painfully yanked behind his back. With her back to Winters, he heard her hiss, "Touch me again, and, next time, it's broken."

The trooper quickly stumbled away, rubbing his sore arm. Alone in the middle of the dance floor, Margaret sighed. She spun towards Winters, angry tears glistening her eyes.

"Lieutenant Winters!" she exclaimed, her eyes downcast in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see you there."

Winters bowed his head to try and catch her eye. Failing, he moved his fingers under her chin to lift her eyes to his. "Margaret, are you ok? I saw what that private did."

She chuckled sadly. "Yes, sir, I'm ok. Just frustrated, I guess. And angry. I thought I was past most of this."

Winters was quiet for a moment. "Margaret, would you like to dance?"

She looked back to him. She waited a heartbeat before smiling slowly. "I would like that very much."

He tucked one hand in his and laid it against his chest as he gently wrapped the other around her waist. She placed her other hand on his shoulder, noticing he was even taller than she originally thought. Although she remembered his handshake as cool and dry, she could feel the heat of his touch radiating through her blouse.

They danced slowly and silently for a long time, not noticing or caring that the next song began, and Bing Crosby started crooning.

"I assume Doc was able to fix your ankle?" he asked.

"Yes, Eugene is the best. I can hardly feel a thing," she lied. Her ankle had started to hurt when she was fighting with the Fox company trooper, but she wasn't about to admit that now.

Studying his eyes for a few beats, she noticed that they were the clearest blue. Margaret smiled. "Were you coming to rescue me, sir?"

Winters smiled back. "First, you didn't need my help. I'm not sure if that trooper will ever ask a girl to dance again." Margaret laughed loudly. He couldn't help but appreciate how she put everything into that laugh. She didn't try and hide her joy like some women he'd met by covering her smile or holding back. His smiled broadened. "And second, when we're alone, you can call me Dick."

Her eyes twinkled. "You got it, sir."

The song seemed to end quickly for both of them. Winters removed his hands from her, but offered his arm to escort her back to her friends.

 _What a gentleman,_ she thought subconsciously.

After saying goodnight, Winters turned to return to his table, but he noticed the smirk on Nixon's face from afar. Winters made his way to the table for the sole purpose to retrieve his jacket. Nixon opened his mouth in greeting, but Winters held up a hand. "I don't want to hear how you'll twist this one around, Nix. Good night."

Nixon snapped his mouth shut, but smirked again. His friend is suddenly on the defensive.

* * *

"Margaret Henry, when were you going to tell us?" exclaimed Helen.

Margaret sat down, her ankle throbbing. She tried to massage it with little luck. "Tell you what?"

Helen rolled her eyes. Betsy giggled, "That you were interested in Lieutenant Winters, silly!"

Margaret gaped. "But I'm not interested in Lieutenant Winters! He's my immediate commanding officer!" Her friends smirked. She lowered her voice. "Listen, you saw how that Fox company soldier had his hands all over me. He came over to help, but found me completely embarrassed and angry in the middle of the dance floor instead. He was just being kind."

"Yeah," Helen snorted. "Kind of handsome. Phew, those _eyes_."

Margaret rolled her eyes. "You don't know the Lieutenant. He's kind to all his soldiers. He's a good man that was just looking to help."

Her friends smirked. She sighed and picked up her jacket. "I need to elevate this foot. Good night ladies." She left them before they could say another word.

On her way out, she spotted Roe. She tugged on his sleeve until he turned towards her. His eyes lighting up, she loved how Roe could make anyone feel special just by looking at them. He really was going to be a great medic.

"Eugene, can I take a raincheck on our dance?" she asked. "My ankle is starting to bother me."

His brows furrowed. "Do you need me to look at it agian?"

She sighed, "No, it's fine, I just need to go before these heels get me - or before Luz brings me another date." She rolled her eyes, grinning.

Roe smiled. "No problem, Maggie. Just keep that elevated for me, yeah?"

Margaret saluted, making Roe laugh. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Let me walk you back at least."


	7. War is Upon Us

Before Easy company knew it, they shipped from the States to God knows where. Soon they figured out they were crossing the Atlantic. Many assumed they were headed to Europe to fight the Germans with the Allied Forces. Nervous excitement filled the bunks inside the ship. Most were eager to kill their fair share of krauts.

With this excitement came a lot of tension. The long journey in tight quarters helped spark many disagreements and fights. Just now Toye had to pull Liebgott off Guarnere after shouting and insults on both sides.

Margaret flopped down next to Luz in his bunk. She gestured to Guarnere and Liebgott. "What's with these two?"

Luz rolled his eyes. "Guarnere and Liebgott are fighting about whether Sobel is a Jew or not. Oh, also if Winters is a Quaker, and, if so, can he shoot a gun."

Margaret snorted and looked at the two angry men, still panting from the argument. "You two are damn pathetic. Grow a set and sit down. "

Guarnere sneered at her. "Kiss your mother with that mouth, honey?"

Margaret smiled sweetly. "No, just your mother, darling."

Luz hooted along with Toye, and even Liebgott cut a smile. Guarnere glared at her until finally cracking a broad grin. He ruffled her hair affectionately. "You're lucky you're cute."

Margaret swatted him away. "Yeah, that and you like looking at my ass too much."

"Damn straight."

* * *

Finally on solid ground, Easy company arrived to Aldbourne, England. Immediately, they began advanced field and weapon training. Almost as quickly, it becomes quite apparent that Sobel didn't know what the hell he was doing.

Easy company had a feeling that the Captain may be in over his head while they were stateside. During their first field trainings there, he would get his platoon lost almost every time. A foreign country didn't seem to help with his lack of direction. Their confidence in their CO was waning - not that there was much confidence to begin with.

After a particularly frustrating, yet entertaining, exercise, Sobel had 2nd platoon cut down a man's fence when he thought Major Horton ordered it - who was in fact only George Luz. Although Luz's stunt was very gratifying at the time, it turned out to bite them in the ass.

Margaret was enjoying a walk through town during her free time, when she heard a commotion. Seeing Roe up ahead, she hurried her pace.

"Eugene," she cried. "What's going on?"

Roe frowned at the group in front of them. He could feel their anxiety from here. "Winters is being court martialed."

Margaret gasped. "What? How is that possible? The man doesn't even drink!"

Roe smiled slightly, but shook his head. "We think Sobel was trying to teach him a lesson after the last field exercise. As you know 1st platoon went on the move after 2nd platoon didn't show up, against Sobel's orders. Plus when he found out Major Horton had been away, well.…"

"I knew Luz's stunt would backfire."

Roe raised his eyebrows, an accusatory look on his handsome face. "That didn't stop you from egging him on, did it?"

Margaret pursed her lips. "What do you know, Eugene?" He waited. She rolled her eyes and grunted. "You were with Winters, not dead in a ditch with Sobel."

Roe waited, still silent. Margaret sighed, surrendering, her hands up. "Fine! I may have been the first to suggest it."

He shook his head, scolding her. "Margaret Henry, there's no hope for you." Margaret harrumphed.

Roe continued, "Anyway, Sobel threatened to take Winters' 48 hour pass for the next two months or he could be tried by court martial."

Margaret looked puzzled. Everyone knew Winters didn't care about weekend liberties. "I don't understand."

Roe shrugged. "Winters requested the court martial."

"What? Is he mad?"

Roe shrugged again. "He pushed back." He smiled at her shocked face. "Looks like our good and quiet Lieutenant found his voice."

* * *

Everyone was on edge for the next few days, waiting to see what would happen to Winters. A small group of troopers decided to appeal to Colonel Sink and declared they wouldn't serve under Sobel.

"They risked everything! Are they stupid?" Margaret exclaimed.

Luz shrugged and lit another cigarette. He lied back on the garden bench, closing his eyes lazily. "Can you go to war under Sobel? I'm not prepared to die that fast."

Margaret contemplated, frowning deeply. "You're right, of course, but to go to that extreme?" She paused. Almost childishly she whined, "Why didn't they ask me to go with them to Sink?"

His eyes flew open and he leaned up on an elbow. "There's no way any man from Easy would allow you to do that."

She sighed angrily, cocking a hip out. With her arms crossed, she opened her mouth. "Whoa, hang on there, doll," Luz interrupted, pointing at her. "Don't start on with that equal treatment bullshit." She raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Luz rolled his eyes. "You know I - and all the other guys - want what you want. We want you to succeed. Not just because you're a woman." He paused, grinning. "You're our woman - our sister in arms. And there is no way we will allow you to risk this opportunity. None whatsoever."

She was silent, thinking. Finally, Margaret bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm going for a walk."

Blushing a bit, Luz shrugged again, lying back down again. "You've been doing that a lot lately. Getting antsy, sweet cheeks?"

Margaret threw him a rude gesture. "I need some breathing room from all the testosterone around here." She walked hurriedly from his bench.

"Get used to it, sweetheart!" Luz called after her, grinning. "Just wait until that male charm is concentrated into a foxhole!"

* * *

Margaret continued down the lane, not sure where she wanted to go, just knowing she needed time to herself. She didn't want to admit it, but Luz was spot on with his last remark. She found during any free time that she was getting edgy. Her mind got away from her, picturing how everything could go wrong with Sobel at the lead.

She understood why Lipton, Guarnere, and the others did what they did, but if they were kicked out of the Army, she didn't think she could do this without them. She didn't know how much she relied on them until the scenario of them gone presented itself. Margaret knew she was being naive. They were going to war, and death didn't discriminate.

Margaret kept walking, her head down in deep thought, until knocking into something hard. "Ow!" Her head banged into a sharp edge, and she heard another gasp of pain. She stumbled back, seeing stars, but hands grabbed her shoulders, keeping her steady.

"Private, I knew you were hardheaded, but I didn't realize it was in the literal sense."

Margaret squinted up to see Winters gazing at her, rubbing his chin with one hand. "I'd have to argue, sir, that your chin initiated the attack and my head only responded in self defense."

Winters laughed, "I'd like to see you prove that."

Margaret saw something on the ground and picked up the clipboard there. She noticed a supply checklist, handing it back to him. "Still awaiting trial, sir?"

Winters shrugged. "I guess. My supply duties are keeping me busy until Colonel Sink makes a decision."

Margaret frowned. "I'm glad for you, sir." She turned to continue down the lane.

Winters twisted to grab her arm, stopping her. "Margaret, what's wrong?"

Margaret huffed and looked up at him. He searched her eyes for an answer. "I'm happy that you are content to be kept busy as a supply officer, Dick. Meanwhile, war is upon us and the rest of us are left with Captain Sobel."

Winters grimaced, and he ran his hand down her arm to take her hand in his. "Margaret, I know this situation isn't ideal..."

Margaret yanked her hand from his. It annoyed her how comforting his touch was when she was hell bent on being upset. "Not the ideal situation? These men would rather march to hell rather than follow Sobel!" Her eyes blazed angrily, taking him aback. She took a breath and softened her voice, but he could still hear the steel. "But if you asked them to march with you straight into Hitler's eagle nest right now with nothing so much as a single bayonet, they would instantly follow."

Winters swallowed, unsure of what to say. He knew many of his soldiers respected his leadership, but Winters was humble enough not to believe such a bold statement.

Seeing that no response would come from him, Margaret clenched her jaw, speaking through her teeth. "Dick, we can't do this without you."

Winters' gaze softened. "I'll figure it out." She raised her eyebrows. "I promise. Nix has been after me as well." Margaret sighed impatiently. He smiled crookedly. He half expected her to stamp her foot. "Now let's check out that bruise that's forming on your forehead. You might have a slight concussion."

Winters led her to a bale of hay in the neighboring barn to sit on. Margaret grumbled, "I can't see Eugene for another injury. He'll scold me."

Winters laughed, kneeling in front of her. "Margaret, I do believe you're pouting." She reluctantly grinned. "Luckily for you, Doc educated me on the signs on a concussion. If I find you clear, he never needs to know."

Margaret chuckled. "Thanks, Dick. I appreciate it. If I so much as got a paper cut, Eugene would give me that dark and broody look of his."

"We all know that look well."

Winters removed a small flashlight from his pocket, and gently flashed it in each of her eyes. "Follow my finger." He moved one index finger back and forth close to her face. She lazily followed it, annoyed by the situation. Finally, he leaned in closer to inspect the growing bruise near her left temple.

Margaret's breath suddenly hitched in her throat when she felt his cool breath on her cheek. His focus was solely on her injury, lightly touching the skin. "Does that hurt too much?" he asked.

Margaret swallowed. "No," she murmured. Winters looked down to see why she became quiet so suddenly. He then realized how close they were and froze.

Winters studied the color of her eyes, noticing that the they weren't just brown. They were a perfect auburn to match her hair and ringed in chocolate brown. As if he couldn't help himself, his eyes flicked down to gaze at her parted lips for several moments before returning to her eyes.

Margaret couldn't breathe. She honestly forgot how to take in air. She gazed into his eyes, struggling to picture something that could compare to that color blue. She watched how his eyes travel down to her lips for what felt like an eternity. Something deep in her belly made her feel heavy, disabling any movement. His eyes came back to hers, and she swore she could hear his heartbeat.

Another beat and Winters blinked. Pulling back to sit on his heels, he took a deep breath. "I think everything looks good, Private. You're safe from Doc Roe." He stood up, offering her his hand in the process. She stood, her knees wobbly. One more brief glance, and he said, "Have a good afternoon." And he left without another word, leaving Margaret to find her breath.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for the lovely review. Your kind words meant so much! I hope you continue the story of Margaret and Dick.**


	8. Night of Nights

As it turned out, Sink figured out the situation for himself before Winters could speak to him. Sobel, to the delight and astonishment of everyone, was transferred to Chilton Foliat as the new training officer. Lieutenant Meehan took over Easy company command. With the court martial dropped, Winters was back with Easy, and Easy was happy to have him. Quaker or not.

Although Margaret dreaded running into Winters alone again, she didn't have time to think about what their last encounter meant. Meehan doubled their training schedule, and she crashed blindly into her bunk very late every night, utterly exhausted. But the spirit of the troops heading from spring and into summer quickly rose. Their unit felt strong, united, and ready to head into battle.

* * *

Upottery became their next and final destination before entering the war zone. Preparing for the jump into German-occupied France was no small feat. Weary, Easy company was happy to accept another Lieutenant named Lynn "Buck" Compton to distract them. Compton easily got along with everyone. Margaret always became a little uneasy with a newcomer, waiting to see their reaction to a woman in the company, but Compton happily introduced himself to her and they became quick friends.

Upottery seemed to be the hub for intelligence training. Day after day, Nixon and Meehan had them study maps and coordinates until every soldier of every company knew where each and every person needed to be come D-Day. The nervous excitement could be cut with a knife. Training was complete. Now they only waited for the order to jump.

Margaret sat on the ground of the hanger, spooning ice cream into her mouth. Her pack ready next to her. Guarnere grumbled about the weight of his pack nearby.

"Why are they springing these on us now?" Malarkey held up the leg bag in disgust.

"It's just an extra eighty pounds strapped to your leg," said Luz. He looked to the attachment. "Does anyone have any idea how the hell this thing works?"

Margaret nodded, swallowing her last bite. "Come here, George. I'll show you."

A sergeant came by, handing out a paper to each other them. Luz looked at his, allowing Margaret to wrangle his leg bag for him. In his best Sink impersonation, he read it aloud for all of them. "Tonight is the night of nights." He paused, taking in the seriousness of the situation. He read the rest of the letter to them, dropping the mocking tone.

Suddenly, Meehan stood on the roof of a jeep. The jump was being postponed due to fog. Margaret felt the air shift. They felt annoyance, but they also felt relief.

* * *

Later while watching a movie, Margaret stared woodenly into the screen. She had seen this one, and romance was definitely not something she wanted to think about at the moment. Guarnere sat to her left; she noticed him reading a letter. She felt him start.

"Bill, what's wrong?" she whispered. He didn't answer, only stood up and rushed from the room. She quickly followed.

He was just outside, holding onto a wall, his head bent. "Bill, are you ok? Tell me, what's wrong." She came his side.

Guarnere looked away, but she tugged on his sleeve until he finally brought his shining eyes to hers. "My brother was killed in Monte Cassino."

Margaret sucked in a quick breath. She took his hand in both of hers. "I'm so sorry, Bill."

He nodded several times, trying to breath. Her grip tightened and he squeezed her fingers back. "Where the fuck is Monte Cassino?"

"Italy, I believe."

She led him to a nearby set of chairs. Sitting, she took his face in her hands, and gently laid his head on her shoulder. Humming a nameless tune, she ran her fingers through his hair while he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

* * *

They didn't have to wait long for the much anticipated jump. Just two days later, they were scheduled to take flight that night. With the sun setting bright and the fog lifted, the soldiers didn't need Meehan to confirm that they were jumping tonight. All were silent as they made their way with their packs and guns to their designated C-47 planes.

In front of her aircraft, Randleman helped Margaret load her heavy pack on her back, securely it in place. Her face itched where the black camouflage grease covered it. She became acutely aware of her pulse, which seemed to throttle in her throat faster and faster with each passing minute.

Randleman helped lower her to her spot on the ground between Toye and Roe before leaving for his own assigned spot. She smiled briefly at his back, hoping to see him again. The thought made her sad.

She felt a nudge on her knee. "Hey Maggie," Toye said from over his shoulder in front of her. "At least I got to experience being between the legs of a beautiful woman one more time before meeting my death."

Margaret chuckled, smacking his shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous, Joe." She paused, grinning. "You're too stubborn to die."

A few guys chuckled with her, but most didn't even seem to notice their conversation. Meehan came before them, small packages of airsickness pills in hand. Margaret swallowed one without thinking. She saw Meehan shake Winters hand before leaving for his own plane.

Winters stood in front of them. "Second platoon, listen up." The soldiers became silent instantly.

He paused, fidgeting with his airsickness pills. His eyes scanned each of their faces. "Good luck. God bless you." Another pause. "I'll see you in the assembly area." It was time.

Winters grabbed the hand of the first man and hauled him to his feet. One after another, he made sure to look at each soldier's eyes, his pride evident, his smile encouraging.

He stood in front of Margaret and she looked up at him. He held out this hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her to her feet. He looked into her eyes. With a serious expression but a soft smile, he nodded. She nodded back, trying to communicate her strength to him in her gaze. He needn't worry about her. They shook hands and she waited to be hoisted into the carrier by her fellow trooper.

* * *

Over the next few hours, Margaret tried to keep her eyes closed and her mind calm. A difficult task with the noise coming from the plane and her immediate companion readjusting his leg bag every five minutes. She placed a hand on Perconte's knee. He looked up and she smiled. He smiled back, although weakly.

The black night sky gleamed in the moonlight and off the dark sea. She knew their destination must be close. _Deep breaths, Maggie_ , she thought to herself repeatedly. _Deep breaths._

Suddenly, it was like a bomb went off from beneath them. Margaret gasped in shock. _That's because it probably was a bomb, dummy_.

All around the planes came bursts of light hidden somewhat by clouds. A red glow painted the inside of the plane. From her seat in the middle, she saw Winters stand in front of them. Raising his hands, they all stood. His voice was drowned out from all the noise.

After hooking to the line, he signaled for them to do an equipment check. A moment later, with his heads waving near his ears, she heard the OK signal starting from behind her.

She felt a pat on her shoulder and "Nine OK!" screamed into her ear. She patted the shoulder in front of her. "Eight OK!" she yelled with everything she had.

And then the planes started flying over French land. Blasts sounded all around them, throwing them off their feet. They quickly helped each other back in line. Margaret was flown onto her knees after the next blast hit. She felt herself being pulled up, not even knowing who to thank. The fear of the jump evaporated; her mind was solely focused on getting off this damn plane.

Finally, after thinking the green light would never turn on, it did. She sees Winters yell to them, but a moment later he was gone.

She shuffled ahead, the heavy leg bag weighing her down. A moment of irritation directed at the U.S. Army for inventing such a stupid contraption, and it was her turn to jump. Without thought or prayer, she dove.

* * *

The jump was a blur. She felt the tugging of the leg bag trying to pull from her body, and she absently crossed her legs in an attempt to save it. Her eyes didn't know where to look. There was too much to take in. The chaos above and below was too much to dissect.

Margaret looked down to see the ground thankfully almost at her feet. Uncrossing her legs, the bag made its escape landing below her. Rolling her eyes, she landed softly next to it. Quickly she unhooked her parachute and reached for her gun. After a quick check for all her items, including her knife, she started to look for signs of where she might be.

After a few minutes of walking crouched through thick weeds, she started to worry. She knew others must be close by, but she hadn't found anyone yet. _Well, at least you didn't find the enemy yet, either_ , she argued to herself.

Then she heard the machine gun. Ducking behind a tree, she saw the back of a kraut soldier firing into the field in front of him. She was about to turn away when she saw movement to her right. The two paratroopers didn't notice her, but the smaller one slipped and broke a large tree branch in his fall, his gun sliding from his hands. The noise caused the kraut look their way and raise his secondary weapon at them.

Exhaling, she lifted her gun, took aim, and fired. The kraut was hit repeatedly in the back, falling dead. After a beat, she lowered her weapon and took in air again through trembling lips. Another beat and she turned to the pair of stunned soldiers, whispering "Flash."

The reply was instant. "Thunder." They made their way over to her.

* * *

Winters tried to stop Hall from slipping in the weeds. The snap of the branch under him was deafening. Stunned, eyes wide, Winters saw the kraut turn and he knew they were dead. Neither without a weapon, Winters prepared to dive into the brush for cover, falling to his knees.

To his left came sudden fire from behind a tree. Connecting the dots, he saw the kraut fall. Winters came up to his haunches, looking back at the tree. He heard, "Flash."

"Thunder," he whispered automatically. Heaving Hall to his feet, they made their way over to the soldier that saved them.

As soon as the moonlight hit her face, Winters stopped. "Private Henry."

She nodded to him, hugging her gun to her chest. "Lieutenant Winters, sir. Glad to find you. I haven't seen anyone else yet."

Another beat of stunned silence, and he nodded back. "We haven't either. This is Private Hall from Able company."

Hall nodded to Margaret, "Hi, Maggie."

She smiled. "Hi, John."

Confused, it took Winters a moment to remember that Hall was one of Margaret's admirers at the dance. Clearing his head with a shake, he whispered, "OK, follow me. We need to find some landmarks. Bridges, roads, any sort of buildings." They turned together towards the forest.

"How about trees? We have plenty of those," Margaret mused.

Winters fought a smile. "Save the jokes for when we find our platoon, Private."

Margaret nodded, "Yes, sir."

They walked quietly for a stretch. Hall coughed, swallowing nervously. "I wonder if the rest of them are us lost as we are."

Winters kept leading them through the brush. "We're not lost, Private. We're in Normandy."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I believe that was a joke, sir."

He bit the inside of his cheek, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Private," he warned.

Margaret smirked. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Before long, they met up with a few more groups including Guarnere, Lipton, and a couple men from the 82nd. After securing a map, Winters determined they were about a few hours walk from assembly.

Walking the train tracks, they suddenly heard horses neighing and laughter of men. Winters ordered them to take cover around a bridge and wait for his command before taking down the enemy. Guarnere had other plans.

With a rage in his eyes that Margaret has never seen before, he opened fire on the krauts himself, causing the others to react and help kill everything before him.

After it was clear everyone in the wagon was dead, Winters got in Guarnere's face. "That's enough Guarnere! The next time I say 'wait for my command,' you wait for my command! Are we clear?" His blue eyes were blazing with anger.

Guarnere sneered up at him. "Yes, sir." She heard him mutter "Quaker" before he stalked away.

Margaret lined up and marched with Hall behind Winters and Malarkey. "What's that guy's problem?" he muttered to her.

Guarnere whipped around, his ears perking up. "None of your business cowboy," he snarled, before turning away again.

Pausing, Margaret nudged Hall gently with her elbow and smiled encouragingly. Hall returned the smile, and they walked on. "Don't mind Guarnere," she whispered. "His brother was recently killed in combat. He's not himself." Winters heard everything and sighed. At least he could understand some of Guarnere's rage, albeit dangerous.

Finally, after a few hours and a beautiful sunrise, Sainte Mere Eglise, the assembly point, was in sight. Their first objective completed.


	9. Not Much of a Dancer

Winters nodded to Major Strayer. "We will take them out, sir. You can count on Easy."

Strayer nodded, agreeing. "OK then. Men, fall out."

Winters walked out of CP with Compton. "Round up what you can of Easy and meet me in the abandoned farmhouse. We need to debrief the mission." Compton nodded, leaving Winters to contemplate his next steps.

* * *

Inside the farmhouse, Winters met with the small group of Easy soldiers that made it to the assembly area and a few volunteers from other companies. Margaret stood to the side next to Lipton, her eyes focused intently on the map Winters started drawing.

Their mission was simple in the facts: there were four artillery guns firing on Utah Beach. Easy needed to take them out. How to do it though, that was the tough part.

"How many krauts are we talking about?" asked Guarnere.

Winters paused. "No idea." Guarnere doesn't reply, but the distrust on his face was evident.

After assigning Perconte and a few others to machine guns, Winters assigned everyone else to the main assault. She flushed with anticipation. _This is what I've been waiting up for_ , she thought. She paused. _Am I ready? Doesn't matter, I have to be_.

She joined the others, dropping everything from her back but her gun and as much ammo as she could carry. She felt someone watching her and she looked up. She met Compton's eyes and he nodded encouragement with a smile. She nodded back in response, lifting her chin, ready to fight.

They filed out, Margaret, Toye, Guarnere, Hall, Popeye and a few others following Winters quietly. They hurried through a farmland before crouching behind trees while Winters decided their next moves. The sound of artillery could be heard from nearby.

Compton came over to them. "OK, Guarnere and Henry, we're going to come up to the first gun from the left while they draw fire from the right. OK, let's go!"

Margaret and Guarnere nodded and followed Compton quickly. She heard the machine gun start to fire, giving them the opportunity to move towards the enemy. They crawled up the left, seeing the group of krauts through the grass.

Compton signaled to them how many krauts were there, and that they were going to throw grenades. They understood, and the three of them quickly each reached for a hand grenade. Together, they threw the bombs.

After hearing the explosions, they ran and jumped into the trenches, ready to fire at the enemy. Compton jumped in first, but Margaret heard him curse, staring incredulously at his gun. Movement on the ground alerted her to an enemy combatant.

Margaret didn't think, she jumped in and pushed Compton aside then shot the injured kraut on the ground a moment before he turned his gun on her Lieutenant. Compton nodded to her. "Thanks, Maggie."

She nodded back. "Don't mention it, Buck." She gestured towards the first gun. "Shall we?"

Compton smiled, unjamming his gun before turning back to the enemy across the field. Krauts were running away from their own base, into the open territory. They crouched down, shooting at what they could. Within moments, they were joined by the other group from Easy.

Popeye groaned and rolled into the trench. Margaret looked down in alarm, but he just moaned something about his ass. Figuring it wasn't life threatening, she turned back to shooting the running enemy. Before she had to chance to do much damage, she heard Winters yell, "Grenade!" and they rolled away quickly.

Her ears ringing, she saw Joe covering Popeye, before checking himself over. "You're one lucky bastard, Joe!" she yelled.

Winters started towards them. "Guarnere! Malarkey! Henry! Secure that gun!"

They replied together, "Yes sir!" before crawling towards the first German artillery weapon. Before they got far, they heard Compton yell, "Grenade! Get out of there! Toye!"

Toye tried to crawl away, not able to get out of the trench in time. Margaret rolled out and waited for the blast to end before rolling back in. Horrified, she saw Toye on the ground covered in dirt. "Joe!"

She fell to him, grabbing him by the jacket. "Are you ok?" A long string of curses left his mouth, and she knew he was unhurt. She kissed his hand and continued to the first gun, following Guarnere and Malarkey.

After clearing the trenches, they attempted to peer over the side. One kraut left and the first gun was theirs for the taking. The kraut fired at them incessantly; he was bound to reload at any moment.

A moment of silence, and Margaret popped up and shot him straight in the chest. Guarnere and Malarkey ran and secured the first gun, waving back to Lipton in the trees. Now they just had to wait for him to bring the TNT to destroy the weapon while keeping the area secure.

Malarkey kept peering at the dead German soldiers in the field. "Do you think one of those dead krauts has a luger?"

Margaret shot a few more times across the field to another German group. "Are you insane, Don? Forget it!"

Leaping over the trench wall, Malarkey ran to the dead German, searching his pockets quickly. For some reason, the krauts weren't shooting at him. "They probably think he's a medic or something!" yelled Guarnere.

"He's going to need a goddamn medic!" Margaret cried angrily.

Malarkey, without a luger, tried to run back, but shots started at his heels. They cried for him to hurry, trying to help with recovery fire. He zigzagged across the field until he could dive into the trench. They looked down at him, their jaws dropped, speechless.

Just a moment later, but what felt like hours, Winters and Hall joined them. "The second gun is secured! We just need TNT!"

"I have TNT, sir!" Hall called. They scrambled to the first gun and loaded the explosive. After lighting a makeshift detonator with a smoke grenade, Winters yelled, "Fire in the hole!" They duck together behind the gun and wait for the explosion.

"Guarnere and Toye, recovery fire at the third gun! Malarkey, Hall, Henry! Follow me to the second gun!" cried Winters.

Breathing heavily, they followed. Margaret couldn't swallow. Her heart was in her throat, throbbing. Her eyes burned from the smoke of gunpowder, and her ears wouldn't stop ringing, but she had never felt more alive. She followed behind Hall to meet Compton at the second gun.

"Think we can get the third gun, Buck?" Winters asked, firing towards the fourth gun.

Compton grinned. "We will soon find out. Malarkey! Henry! With me!" They instantly went to his side before crouching into the tunnels of the trenches to the third gun. Hall stepped towards them.

"Hall, wait!" Winters called. "Leave your TNT!" Hall paused to follow the Lieutenant's order before leaving to catch up with Margaret. Compton, Malarkey, and Margaret exited the tunnels just as Hall entered by himself. A heartbeat later, and a grenade blasted Hall away unbeknownst to the others. They trudged ahead.

At the third gun, they quickly took out the two krauts still alive. Compton motioned to Winters that it was clear. Margaret and Malarkey continued to fire at the fourth gun, each round shaking her teeth.

After destroying the third gun, Margaret heard Lipton drop beside her yelling and showing her the TNT he was finally able to obtain. Margaret grinned before shooting at the fourth gun again. "Don't need it!" She gestured to the destroyed weapon. He looked perplexed, silently asking how that happened. "Hall did it!"

"Hall?" Lipton cried. "Who the heck is Hall?"

Margaret grinned again, squinting down the barrel on her rifle. "He's not much of a dancer, but he sure knows how to blow shit up!"

Lipton, still confused, shook his head and started firing towards the enemy. Suddenly, they were joined by four members of Dog company led by Lieutenant Spiers. Margaret looked up and saw Helen.

Helen grinned wide at her friend, jumping into the pit. "Fancy meeting you here, honey." Margaret smiled hugely and winked.

Spiers yelled to Winters, "Mind if D company takes on the fourth gun?"

Winters shrugged, "Be my guest!"

Spiers smiled excitedly. "Dog company! Follow me!" They watched the four Dog company troopers run down the trench to the fourth gun. Shockingly, they saw Spiers dangerously climb out of the trench to shoot a kraut from the back.

"What the hell is he doing?" cried Compton, shaking his head. Before Winters could reply, Helen climbed from the trench on the other side to kill the other kraut before jumping back in towards the fourth gun with Spiers.

Winters and Compton turned to Margaret. "Isn't that your friend, Maggie? She sure is something else." asked Compton in awe.

Margaret shrugged. "Looks like Helen was assigned to the right CO."

Compton laughed and he and Winters turned back. "Oh, Jesus. Who knew they would find the female equivalent to Spiers."

Winters agreed, "Scary."

* * *

Winters and his men (and woman) completed the task after destroying the fourth gun. They then retreated to battalion for a moment before leaving Utah beach. They had to secure yet another town to the south before they were finally able to rest.

The past 24 hours seemed unreal to Margaret. To think it began in England with a crude comment from Toye and ended surrounded safely by her family in a truck, Malarkey cooking their dinner in a tin box. She felt a pang in her chest when she thought of Hall.

"Jesus! Get me out of here!" Liebgott left the enclosed truck for some fresh air.

Somehow Malarkey was elected tonight's cook. He stirred his concoction and tasted it. "How we doing, Malark?" asked Compton.

"We're doing good, Buck." Malarkey replied.

"How can that be?" Compton continued. "You're Irish."

"Hey, hey! What's wrong with the Irish? I happen to be Irish!" Margaret cried, laughing. Lipton handed her the bottle of alcohol and she took a small swig. She handed it back with a grimace.

"No way, you're Irish, doll," laughed Compton. "Irish handle their liquor better than that."

Margaret squinted her eyes and waved back to Lipton for the bottle. Challenge accepted. She lifted the bottle to her lips again, and took several slugs before shoving it into Compton's chest. She tried her very best not to grimace at the burning taste. Tears came to her eyes in pain.

Compton and the other men laughed heartily at her expression as Malarkey poured stew into her dish. She looked down at the mush and thought the alcohol might come back up with a vengeance.

The truck's back flap opened and Winters peeked in. "Evening. Did something die in here?"

The entire truck vibrated with their laugher. "Evening, sir," said Guarnere. "Yeah, it's Malarkey's ass."

Compton fidgeted with the bottle in his hands. "Any word from Lieutenant Meehan yet?"

Winters looked solemn. "No, not yet."

Guarnere looked hard at Winters. Margaret paused in poking at her dinner and watched the exchange, ready to pull Guarnere back if his temper returned. "Doesn't that make you our commanding officer, sir?"

Winters looked back at Guarnere, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Yeah, it does."

Guarnere surprised them all by smiling and nodding to Winters. Compton offered the bottle to Winters. Guarnere waved him off. "No, the Lieutenant don't drink."

Shocking him, Winters reached over and took the bottle. "It's been a day of firsts," he muttered. He had a quick drink from the bottle. He looked as if he enjoyed it as much as Margaret had. He studied the bottle and then looked to Guarnere. He offered the drink to the Sergeant. "Don't you think, Guarnere?"

Guarnere nodded again and took the bottle. "Yes, sir."

Winters nodded to them all. "Carry on." They wished him a good night. He ducked to leave the truck, but then came back again. "Oh, and Sergeant?"

"Sir?"

"I'm not a Quaker."

He left before Guarnere could respond with more than a stunned look, but heard his distinct laughter a moment later along with everyone else. Luckily Margaret didn't attempt to eat the stew at that moment like poor Lipton, who choked and spit out everything in his mouth on Toye across from him.


	10. Comfort and Direction

"Listen up!" yelled Lieutenant Harry Welsh to Easy. "It will be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking," he continued before pointing at Luz, "and no playing grab fanny with the man in front of you, Luz. We're taking Carentan. General Taylor is sending the whole division. We follow Fox company."

Luz grinned, puffing on a final cigarette. "Remember boys - give me three days and three nights of hard fighting, and you will be relieved!" Luz shouted in his best Taylor voice.

Margaret laughed with the others. They began to march, and she lined up directly behind Luz. She nudged Toye next to her who nudged Guarenere. Quickly, most of the group waited to see what would happen next.

Luz continued his impersonation. "Another thing to remember boys, flies spread disease. So keep yours… _yow_!" Luz yelped, jumping forward and grabbing his backside, bumping into Randleman. Luz looked back at Margaret, her hand pulling quickly back from here she pinched his butt, hard.

Welsh turned, shaking his head. "Luz, what did I say about playing grab fanny?"

Luz gaped, "Sir, I…" pointing wildly at Margaret.

She interrupted him, her eyes innocent. "Sir, we'll make sure to control him. Sorry, sir," she said apologetically. She turned to Luz, "George, come on, quit it."

Welsh nodded and turned his back on them. Luz looked at Margaret, still gaping. Her chesire grin wider than he'd ever seen it. The boys around them snickered. He narrowed his eyes to her, but he froze when she mouthed to him, _Just wait_.

Usually Luz would turn a comment like that and make it crude, but he shivered and turn his back again on her. He didn't know what was more frightening - the Germans or Margaret Henry still hell bent on her promise for revenge for the dance incident.

Margaret winked to Roe, who winked back. They marched together towards their next mission in Carentan. After only a few days to recuperate, Easy company was being sent to lead the next attack.

* * *

Eventually, all soldiers arrived to their rendezvous point, even after several delays when Easy kept losing sight of Fox company. Winters led them down the main road leading into the town before ducking below a hill.

"I want you to move first. I will be right behind you with 2nd and 3rd platoon," Winters whispered to Welsh. He looked at his watch. "Go!"

Welsh and 1st platoon rose and scampered quickly towards the town. Winters ran to the others and waved for them to follow. Almost immediately, shots were fired towards Easy.

The men of 1st platoon ran forward, caught in the middle, several killed in the process with a few reaching the temporary safety of a building's side. The rest of the troopers from 2nd and 3rd ducked into side trenches next to the road for cover instead of following their comrades.

Strayer and Winters shouted to them to move. "Get up out of those trenches! Go! Go! Go!" Winters cried.

"But we're out in the open, sir!" someone yelled, ducking farther from the flying bullets.

Exasperated, Winters screamed, "Get them going, Buck!" before trudging forward to check on 1st platoon.

Compton stood, waving for them to move. They both continued without much luck. "Move out! Move!"

Margaret stood, pulling Hoobler to his feet with her. "Let's go, Don! We have to go!" Hoobler staggered but remained standing. She quickly moved to the next man.

"Our boys are out there!" she screamed. "We need to help them! Get up! Take my hand, let's go! Edward! Shifty! With me!" She yanked at each of them, helping Compton and Winters pull every man to their feet.

"We have men getting killed! Out of that trench! Let's move! Out of the trenches!" they chanted. Finally they were on the move, splitting between two groups as they ran to the town.

Margaret ran behind Lipton, followed closely by Guarnere and Tipper. Lipton peered around the corner of a building to see where the kraut could be. Then, a sniper hit the man next to her before she could blink.

"Guarnere, clear that house. Henry, with me!" Blocking any emotion, she nodded and followed Lipton as they crossed the street. They spotted Shifty, who gave the thumbs up that he was OK. "Shifty, clear those windows!" Lipton pointed to above a scaffold. Nodding, Shifty took it out easily.

Lipton nodded to Margaret, and she understood his silent command. She climbed the fire escape until she could creep to the third floor door. Exhaling, she removed a grenade, took its pin, and then she threw it inside, killing the group of Germans inside. She sighed, but her relief was short lived. From her viewpoint, she saw an explosion from behind another house.

She screamed, "They've got us zeroed! Spread it out! Spread out now!" Soldiers separated from their groups and scattered. She hurried down the stairs to meet up with Lipton.

He ran into the street. "Get the hell out of here! Get out of the street! Go! Go!" he screamed, waving them away. Suddenly, a shell exploded just in front of Lipton, blowing him back several feet. The blast was so strong, Margaret felt herself being pushed back into the staircase, knocking her helmet off.

"Shit!" Margaret exclaimed before running to Lipton's side. She attempted to drag him slowly from the open, absently feeling pieces of crumbled concrete falling on them. Talbert thankfully arrived and helped her move Lipton to a wall. "How are you doing, Car?" she asked, stroking his face.

Talbert wrapped a bandage around Lipton's scratched arm. "You're going to be fine, Lip." They both follow Lipton's eyes to where they were locked on his bloody groin. Talbert started, but quickly ripped a hole in his pants near the wound. Margaret looked away, trying to soothe Lipton with soft words of comfort.

Talbert smiled softly. "You're going to be OK, Lip. Everything is right where it should be. Come on, upsy daisy." He pulled Lipton to his feet, heaving him over a shoulder and leaving Margaret behind. She quickly left to run into Malarkey, picking up a spare helmet along the way.

Together they shot towards unclaimed buildings until grenades could complete the job. They then hid behind some pillars of a church, looking for the next enemy. Before moving on, they both became stunned at what they saw next.

Father Maloney was calmly walking the street through the rubble to bless each and every fallen soldier. If it wasn't completely insane, Margaret's heart would probably break. "Don, do you see this?" she motioned to Maloney.

Malarkey shook his head in disbelief. "Crazy fools, the Irish," and he took another shot.

Margaret came beside him and fired twice more. "We would know." They grinned at each other before moving forward once more. They heard machine gun fire from above them. The Germans were retreating Carentan. The mission was complete.

* * *

Roe wiped some ointment on the cut and then started to clean the rest of the blood away gently. "You're lucky. This isn't too deep and it's along the hairline. You won't even notice the scar," he murmured to her.

Margaret rolled her eyes impatiently. "Yes, that's exactly what I was worried about, Eugene." Roe gave her a dark look before adding more ointment. She sighed turning her head to look at him, but he clucked his tongue and forced her head back to the side so he could continue to work.

She sighed. "Can I go now, Eugene? I told you it was just a small cut. A scratch even."

Roe rolled his own eyes. "Scratches don't typically need stitches, Maggie."

She pursed her lips before giving up. " _Two_ stitches," she muttered. "Only two." He reached for a piece of bandage, but her hand stopped him instantly by grabbing his wrist. "Come on, Eugene. Let's be reasonable. Save the clean bandages for those that need them."

Roe's eyes narrowed at her, but she held her own against his glower. "At ease, troopers. The battle is over," Winters said, limping into the aid station.

Roe ignored the humor and walked quickly to Winters, helping him onto the table. "What happened, sir?" Margaret asked.

He looked at the wound on his leg as Roe examined it. "I believe a ricochet. Nothing Doc can't fix, I'm sure."

Roe sighed and stood. "You're lucky it's something I can treat, sir." He turned to get supplies and glowered at her again. "You are _both_ lucky."

Winters and Margaret watched him leave for the supply room. He looked to her. "What did you do?"

She rolled her eyes again. "I stopped him wasting a clean bandage. I don't think he's pleased with me."

Winters chuckled and started to roll his pants leg. He paused a moment, glancing at her, before continuing the task. "You know, Margaret, I want you to know that you're doing an excellent job. Buck and I were just commenting about it."

Margaret beamed with pride. "Thank you, sir. That is very nice to hear."

He smiled to himself a bit before continuing. "Buck passed along his compliments to Colonel Strayer today." She raised her eyebrows. "Combined with my previous notes of your good work, Colonel Sink is very pleased with your dedication, endurance, and strength."

Margaret was very confused. "Your notes, sir?"

Winters nodded. "I have to report everything to him after every mission. The paperwork is a nightmare as you can imagine." She smiled.

He looked at her, a serious expression in his face. "Margaret, between your leadership today, your bravery at Sainte Mere Eglise, and not to mention saving my and Hall's lives on D-Day, the Colonel quite agreed to promote you to Sergeant."

Margaret stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. Winters waited. Finally he added, "Sergeant Henry, I don't think I've ever seen you so quiet."

She closed her mouth and opened it again, but no sound came out. Winters lifted an eyebrow. "Margaret?"

Finally, she blinked and looked at him. "Me?"

Winters smiled crookedly. "Yes, you. Your work in the battlefield speaks for itself, not to mention the morale boost you give to your fellow soldier off the field. They look to you for comfort and direction."

She blinked again before sliding off her table and standing in front of him. "Thank you, sir. I'm honored. I won't let you down, sir. I don't know what to say. It's all so much," she babbled. Winters' smile grew. She noticed her incoherent nonsense and sighed heavily. "I just...I just didn't expect it, sir."

Winters held out his hand to her. She shook it immediately. "Congratulations, Sergeant." She beamed.

Roe came back with his arms full of supplies, including what suspiciously looked like a complete head wrap. Margaret's happy demeanor darkened instantly. She pointed a finger at Roe's arms, her eyes shooting darts. "Eugene Roe, don't even think about coming near me with that!"


	11. War is Hell

It turned out that Carentan was as important to the Germans as it was to the Allied Forces. The 506th Infantry attempted to keep the town in their possession, with Easy being ordered to flank the outskirts of the village. Their job was to be at the edge of the line and keep the krauts from coming in.

As they started passing through a tree-lined field, shots began to erupt, and several men were taken down. "Take cover!" screamed Welsh. "In the hedgerow!"

Margaret crawled on her belly, following the feet in front of her until it was safer to race to the trees. Across the way in another thicket, shots continued to rain down upon them. She landed on her belly next to Martin and started to fire back until night fell.

Easy company was antsy. Most remained in hastily dug fox holes to rest, but Margaret could feel the tension. She leaned her head on Roe's shoulder, trying to sleep. All of a sudden, they heard "Medic!" and Roe instantly rushed away. Margaret moved to follow, but he pushed her back into the foxhole and gave her a warning look before leaving.

She sighed, hoping everyone was ok. There were bound to be accidents when everyone was so wound up. She closed her eyes again, trying to relax, but failing miserably. From her right, she heard two soldiers speaking and walking towards her. She tried to ignore them.

"What's your name, trooper?" she heard one soldier ask. She sat up and saw that he was speaking down to someone in another foxhole.

"Blithe. Albert Blithe, sir." His voice was so soft, she could barely hear him, but his name was clear enough.

"Do you know why you hid in the fox hole, Blithe?" The unknown soldier paused listening to his answer. "We're all scared." He knelt down in front of Blithe. "You hid in that ditch because you think that there's still hope. But, Blithe, the only hope you can have is to accept that you're already dead."

Margaret sat up straighter. _What the hell?_

The officer continued. "And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you will be able to function the way a soldier is supposed to function. Without mercy. Without compassion. Without remorse. All war depends upon it." The soldier stood again and turned. Margaret instantly recognized Lieutenant Spiers.

He walked by her foxhole and noticed her glaring at him. He tipped his helmet to her, smirked, and walked away. _God, Helen better not start taking after him too much._

With a deep breath, Margaret left her foxhole to walked to where Blithe was still standing. Smith was leaning back with his eyes closed inside, but she doubted if he was asleep. She looked at Blithe. "Can I join you?" He nodded slowly.

Blithe sat down next to Smith. Margaret sat across from him, her legs bent. "Albert?" she whispered.

Blithe looked at her with blank eyes. She continued, "I just wanted to say," she stopped. "I just wanted to say that I think there is hope. And I'm not talking about the kind Spiers described."

She took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb in circles on his stained skin. "I also believe that in order to be a good soldier, one needs heart." She placed her other palm on his chest. "Your good heart is what is why you're here. You're a selfless man, and your heart will get you through this war."

Blithe swallowed thickly. "But...but Lieutenant Spiers said that I should have no compassion, no mercy for my fellow man."

Margaret shook her head. "We have joined this war because we are trying to stop the enemy that has no mercy, no heart at all for his fellow man. We are the good guys, Albert. You are a good man, and this makes you a good soldier."

Tears fell from Blithe's eyes. "But I'm scared, Maggie. I don't want to die."

She smiled softly. "Spiers was right in that regard. We are all scared. I'm scared, too. But we need to channel that fear and work together to end this war." She paused and gave him a soft smile. "Besides, men like Spiers are always more afraid than they let on. The brave ones are the first to admit their fear."

* * *

Winters walked among the remnants of the battle. This morning, mortars flew and bombed their location before the krauts started firing. His soldiers fought well. His sergeants commanded and organized essential attacks, even after Dog and Fox companies retreated. They were beating the Germans - until the tanks arrived.

Easy was no match for the armored weapon. The fear from the soldiers was palpable. The only option was to destroy the tank, and thankfully Welsh was able to succeed, but their casualties were great. The krauts continued their assault relentlessly. His men never backed down, but they were losing.

It was the Sherman tanks that saved them. Cheers erupted at the sight on them. Winters could still hear the screams of joy in his ears from his soldiers.

He canvassed the area, taking note of the fallen soldiers, and offering help when needed to those that remained. As he crossed the field, he saw Blithe leaving a wooded nook, twisting an edelweiss flower in his fingers.

"Blithe."

Blithe looked up. "Lieutenant."

Winters let out a breath, and said, "You did well today, soldier."

Blithe blinked. The flower twisted faster in his hand. "I think they were both right, sir."

Winters cocked his head slightly, confused. "Who was right, Blithe?"

"Lieutenant Spiers and Maggie."

"You mean Sergeant Henry?"

Blithe looked away. "Yes, sorry, sir." He gathered his thoughts. "Lieutenant Spiers told me that I couldn't have compassion or mercy in order to be a good soldier. Sergeant Henry told me that it was my heart that made me a good soldier and a good man."

Winters was silent. Blithe sucked his teeth a moment and then continued. "When you got me out of that foxhole today, I saw you fire your weapon without pause. I knew then that you were firing without compassion for the enemy and without any mercy."

Winters eyes sharpened and he felt the hard truth like a rock in his stomach. Blithe looked him in the eyes. "But I also know you are a good man. You helped me. You have a good heart, and everyone knows you are the best soldier." Blithe paused once more, before walking away leaving Winters deep in thought for a long time.

* * *

"I need to know what's in that cabin," murmured Nixon to Welsh. "Ask for volunteers."

Welsh sighed. "I hate asking for volunteers," he muttered.

Nixon gave him a look. "Then pick them."

Welsh sighed again and looked back at the ten soldiers behind them. "We need to take a look at the farmhouse. Who wants to go?"

Margaret felt everyone shift nervously. They were all exhausted. Suddenly, Blithe stood. "I'll go," he said.

Margaret sighed, knowing she couldn't let him go alone. She stood. "I'll go, too."

Welsh nodded. "Anybody else?" Silence. "Martin. Dukeman. You just volunteered. Hubba hubba. Blithe leads scout. Let's move."

Margaret walked silently behind Blithe with Martin and Dukeman filing behind her. They climbed through the high weeds, guns ready. Blithe moved forward to crouch behind a broken wagon. He peered into the house before turning and motioning for them to follow.

A sniper instantly hit him in the throat, and Margaret watched him fall as if in slow motion.

'Covering fire!" Welsh screamed. "Covering fire!"

Margaret ran to Blithe, and together with Martin and Dukeman, they dragged him back to safety past the others. Martin screamed for a medic as Margaret scrambled with sulfa and a bandage.

"You're ok, Albert," she cried, dumping the sulfa into his wound before adding pressure with her hands. Blood seeped her fingers, soaking the bandage through. "You're going to be ok!" The blood kept flowing. Blithe gasped for breath like a goldfish out of water. His frantic eyes locked on hers.

"Move away!" Roe commanded running to them. "Move Margaret! Let me in!" He took over tending to Blithe as she pulled back her hands, staring at them, not recognizing them.

* * *

Easy company was pulled back to Utah Beach to rest. In town, Winters hobbled over to Welsh, who was napping underneath a canopy. Broken stones of homes and stores laid around them, some soldiers using them as stools while enjoying the much needed break.

"I spoke to Colonel Sink," Winters told Welsh. "He thanked Easy company for holding the line." Welsh grunted in response. "He also said General Taylor was pleased."

Welsh smirked. "That's why I came to France. To please General Taylor."

Winters snorted in response, taking in the scene before him. From across the square, he saw Margaret kneeling on the ground in front of a water pump. He stood, still looking in her direction. "I'll see you, Harry." Welsh grunted again, not even opening his eyes.

Winters walked towards Margaret, but she didn't seem to notice his presence. He watched as she repeatedly tried to scrub the dried blood from her hands with a dirty piece of steel wool. A bucket of scarlet water lay next to her.

"Margaret?"

She didn't respond. At this point he wasn't sure if her skin was this angry and pink from blood or from her severe scouring. "Margaret." She didn't respond again. He dropped to one knee in front of her. He paused, then took her hands in his to stop the attack on herself.

She looked up at him, silent tears coursing down her cheeks, streaking through the grit and grime leftover from battle. Her eyes were sad and angry, but defiant. They dared him to remark at her moment of weakness. He tried to tell her with his own gaze that he would never taunt her.

Neither said a word. He moved to kneel behind her as she sat back on her heels. Remaining on his knees, he slowly wrapped his arms around her, curving his body as a shelter for her from the pain. She felt her resolve weaken, and she hitched forward. Laying her cheek on his forearms, she wept for the soldier named Albert Blithe.


	12. A Brisk Wake Up Call

"George."

Luz remained dead asleep in his cot. Fingers reached over and gently brushed his cheek. "George," the voice whispered again.

He moaned slightly, feeling the slim fingers bury themselves in his dark hair. The fingers moved to grace his jawline and down his neck. _This dream girl better travel lower_ , thought Luz happily.

"George. Wake up," she whispered again. Luz opened barely one eye, angry at the intrustion to his dream, before popping both open wide.

Margaret straightened and stood next to him, holding a candle in one hand. "Maggie?" Luz asked, confused. His eyes widen as he took her in. Her long hair tumbled over one shoulder and down her chest. Her lips pouted and looked darker than normal. The flame of the candle caused light to dance across her face, brightening her eyes. Finally, he noticed that she wore a very large tshirt that went to the middle of her bare thighs - and nothing else.

"Maggie," he choked. "What the hell… why are you here?" Luz hastily sat up away from her, leaning against the wall behind him.

Margaret sighed softly and sat on the edge of the bed next to his hip. She placed the candle on the night table next to his head before looking down at her twisting hands. "I couldn't sleep."

Luz waited, but she didn't continue. "Um, I'm sorry to hear that?" he questioned, completely bewildered.

Margaret sighed again. "My head is so full. I can't stop thinking about…" she paused.

Luz still waited; he was utterly lost. "About…?"

Margaret's lips parted as she took a breath. She finally raised her eyes to look at him through her lashes. "I can't stop thinking about you, George."

Luz's eyes widened. He looked quickly to the cot next to him, but it was empty. He forgot that Martin had watch duty tonight.

While his head was turned, she took the opportunity to scoot closer to him, leaning her face towards his. She licked her lips. His eyes widened further as he snapped his gaze back to her. "I've tried to fight these feelings, George. I don't want to fight anymore." Luz was frozen. Usually a man of quick wit and sharp words, he was speechless.

Margaret grabbed his shirt in her left hand, twisting it tightly. She crawled closer, laying her chest across his, placing her right hand softly on his heart. "Do you feel it too?" she whispered, looking deep into his eyes. Nervously, he fidgeted and manoeuvred the blanket to cover his growing groin area. He remained silent, not knowing what to say or think.

She smiled softly before dipping her head to his far cheek and towards his ear. He could feel her warm breath on his neck. Her full lips brushed his ear before whispering, her voice deeper than normal, "I want you, George Luz. And I am going to have you one day." Her teeth scraped slightly against his lob, causing him to take a stuttering breath in, his hand adjusting the blanket again.

She pulled back releasing his shirt and placing a small, folded piece of paper in his hand. She tucked it inside his palm and enclosed his fingers around the note. "I need you to read this for me. Make sure you're alone." His head nodded violently, his eyes still wide, his body still frozen.

Margaret smiled and stood, walking quietly to the door. At the last moment, she paused and turned back towards him. "George?"

It took him a moment to find his voice. "Ye…" he squeaked, then cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"I have something you need, too." Luz looked terrified; he wasn't sure how much more he could take. He saw her hand play with something at the door just before a torrential downpour of icy water feel down on his head, drenching him and his bed. He jumped from it, howling.

She chuckled softly, and he could hear the evil smile in her voice. "A cold shower," she said, before leaving him. Stunned and dazed, he could only watch her leave his room and close the door behind her.

Almost as an afterthought, he remembered the piece of paper in his hand. He opened it slowly, his body shaking from his cold shirt and boxers. Inside, the note read, _A woman always keeps her promises, especially those of revenge_ and it was sealed with a lipstick imprint of her mouth.

* * *

Margaret walked into the common room to the roars of laughter. The boys gathered there thumped her on the back repeatedly. She grinned, pulling the huge tshirt off, revealing her own shirt and PT shorts underneath. She wiped the lipstick from her mouth with the back of her hand, reminding herself to thank the barmaid again for letting her borrow her makeup.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your shirt, Bull," she said, handing it to him.

Randleman in turn returned her pants and jacket. He chewed on a cigar and grinned. "Anytime for you, darling."

She grinned back to him and pulled on her pants. She quickly sat and laced up her boots before walking towards the door. "Come on, I think he'll snap out of it in a minute and I want to be safe in the mess before he does," she said. They left the house and walked immediately towards breakfast, the sun just starting to rise over the horizon.

"Maggie, you need to tell us everything. In detail, right now," Toye pleaded, helping her with her jacket.

The boy surrounded her, their eyes gleaming with humor. Their time away in Aldbourne, England had become more therapeutic than anyone could imagine. Naturally, this time away led to mischief.

Margaret looked at each of their eager faces and couldn't help but give them what they wanted. "So I go in there, looking as ridiculous as I did, and I woke him up. After he finally opened his eyes, I laid it on him. I used my...my…" she struggled, searching for the right term.

"Womanly ways," interjected Randleman.

She laughed loudly and nodded. "Sure. Let's go with that." As she continued with her story and they walked together down the lane, she saw the happy faces of her family looking at her with rapt attention.

Margaret paused, her throat thick with happy tears for a quick moment. The last several weeks didn't disappear from their memories completely, but the pain and sadness of war seemed to fade, even just a bit while they stayed in England. She would do anything for these men, and, at the moment, her job was their entertainment.

She turned to Randleman, pretending he was Luz. "Then, I grabbed his shirt tightly in one hand and crawled until I was almost in his lap. I leaned in and whispered in his ear…"

The men roared around her with laughter as she finished her story. Unfortunately for Toye, he took a sip of coffee at that moment. He spit it on the ground, coughing, before bending at the waist laughing loudly.

Giggles racked Margaret's body, but at that moment, she felt eyes on her. She turned and looked back down the lane and saw Winters looking at her, a small smile on his face. She smiled back to him, their eyes locked for a long second, before Guarnere nudged her to continue. She turned away from Winters, but she felt her cheeks grow warm.

Guarnere slung an arm around her shoulders, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. "After he nodded that he'd do as I asked, I told him I had something he needed." She grinned wickedly, pausing for dramatic effect. "Then I pulled the cord, drenching him. The bucket tipped over perfectly. The cold shower was a direct hit, so thanks for your help with that, Shifty," she winked to him.

Shifty chuckled, blushing a bit. "No problem at all, Maggie. It was my pleasure."

As they finished up, about to enter the mess for breakfast, they heard a shout, "Margaret Henry!"

They all turned to see a fuming Luz, soaked to the skin. Margaret grinned. "George! Good morning!" she called, blowing him a kiss and a wink. The rest of the men shook their heads, chuckling at her audacity before they filed into the mess.

* * *

Winters looked up when he heard her laughter. Margaret and a small group of Easy men left a house, chuckling together. The boys were listening keenly to her. Winters could tell she was telling a story of some sort because of how animated she was. Her face glowed with humor and her hands gestures wildly. Her long auburn hair tumbled in waves down her back, not up in its traditional bun. Unconsciously, he smiled.

Nixon flopped down next to Winters on the table he was sitting on. He quickly took Winters' coffee mug from near his feet while his friend continued to spoon porridge into his mouth, watching the group.

Winters chewed and glanced briefly away from Margaret. "Little early for you, Nix."

Nixon groaned, draining the coffee. "Wait until I tell you what woke me up."

Winters continued chewing. "Can't wait." His gaze returned to Margaret.

"So there I am, innocently asleep in my bunk."

Winters snorted. "Nothing about you is innocent, Nix."

Nixon ignored him, continuing. "And I am rudely awaken by a roar from below me followed by the entire house shaking. Naturally, I roll out of bed, looking first for a kraut…"

Winters tuned him out, watching as Margaret grabbed Randleman's shirt and caressed his chest with the other hand while whispering in his ear. For some reason this caused Toye to spit out the coffee he was drinking and bend over laughing outrageously.

"And then I see a soaking wet George Luz dripping water all over the common room floor. I asked him why he was so wet and he said..." Nixon continued. He looked at Winters and noticed his friend wasn't listening. He followed his eyes to Margaret and the boys.

At that moment she looked their way. Winters smiled softly to her. Nixon smiled and waved. She smiled softly back to Winters, their eyes locked. Nixon frowned, looking between the two. "Chopped liver," He whined. "I'm chopped liver."

"Awful stuff, liver," said Welsh sitting down on Nixon's other side. "Rather eat those disgusting kraut rations." Margaret broke eye contact with Winters and turned back to finish her story.

Welsh chewed on a roll and looked at Nixon. "Isn't it a little early for you, Nix?"

Nixon sighed. "It's funny that you should mention it. I was asleep, minding my own business…."

"But you never mind your own business," Welsh teased. Winters snorted, smirking. Nixon rolled his eyes and continued. Welsh and Winters both watched the group of animated soldiers, not really listening to Nixon.

"And then Luz is there, soaked to the bone, in his underwear! I asked him why he was so wet and he said…"

"Margaret Henry!"

They all turned at the shout to see a drench and shivering George Luz standing outside the door of a house. His dark hair stood on end in every direction and his eyes were livid.

Welsh cocked his head to the side. "Hm, wonder why Luz is wet. And in his skivvies."

Winters nodded. "That is a very good question," he replied, watching Luz start to run towards Margaret. If it was any other woman but Margaret Henry, they would expect her to flee. But Margaret only looked to Luz and waved before blowing him a kiss..

Nixon sighed and hung his head, defeated. "Chopped liver," he muttered.


	13. One and Only Chance

**This chapter got away with me a bit. It's a longer than usual for me. Also, as the chapters move forward, the M rating will increasingly apply to my story. You have been warned. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Well, this seems a little too easy," said Cobb, as they finished crossing the muddy fields toward the town of Eindhoven, Holland.

"You know what is a little too easy, Cobb," snarled Guarnere, keeping watch around them. "Telling you to shut the fuck up."

The rest of them chuckled, and Cobb frowned. "Just seems a little too quiet to me, that's all."

Malarkey looked at him incredulously. "Are you seriously jixing us right now? Shut your mouth, Cobb, or I'll shut it for you."

Cobb sneered, "Superstitious mick."

Margaret stopped them with a signal, gesturing to the window opening in a nearby building. They instantly got set with their rifles, watching for the enemy. Instead a woman tied an orange flag to the window frame.

Margaret straightened from her crouch. "Hold your fire." They glanced at each other, confused. Where was the enemy? Shrugging, they continued into the town. What they found was the opposite of the krauts they were told were inside.

The town seemed to think it was liberated already of the Germans. Flags of orange and Holland were streamed everywhere in the streets. Margaret tried to push through the growing crowd, following Randleman through the square. He turned to her, yelling and pointing to something in front of them. The happy shouts of the townsfolk and the loud music were too much. She couldn't hear him but nodded that she would follow.

Quickly, the people around them moved in closer. Gasping, Margaret was on edge, preparing for an attack. Instead, an old man came up and hugged her, saying something to her, a large smile on his face. After him, a child ran up to her and hugged her leg. Even a pretty blonde woman stopped and kissed her quickly on the lips.

Overwhelmed, but smiling, Margaret followed Randleman until they heard chanting. In a large circle before them, they saw women beaten, their dresses torn from their bodies, and their hair sheared off. Some had swastikas cut into their foreheads. The scene was shocking.

Randleman turned to her, trying to turn her from the scene. "You shouldn't be here, Maggie. I don't trust this lot," he said gruffly.

Winters, Nixon and Welsh came up beside them with a Dutch officer. "I have to agree with Bull," said Winters, turning to look at her. "You should get away from this." He saw her eyes flash in anger, but she reluctantly nodded.

Winters moved their group towards the outskirts of the crowd. Randleman turned, shaking his head. "Jesus, what did they do to deserve that?"

The Dutchman spoke up. "They slept with the Germans." Margaret scoffed. "They're lucky. Any man that worked with the krauts was shot." They were silent, not knowing what to say.

Winters spoke first. "This is Sergeant Randleman. And Sergeant Henry. They're helping lead our soldiers to secure the bridges."

The man shook Randleman's hand before moving towards Margaret. He looked at her a moment, before smiling and holding out his hand. "We have had women fighting in our military for years. I thank you for fighting for my country, Sergeant." Tentatively, she smiled back.

The Dutchman nodded before returning his attention to Winters. "We can help you push the remaining Germans out of Eindhoven. And hopefully that's just the beginning in liberating Holland."

Winters and Nixon glanced at each other, unsure. This mission, Operation Market Garden, was in the hands of their British allies. They didn't have a choice. Winters looked to Randleman, Welsh and Margaret. "Keep scouts out on the edge of town in case we're here for the night," he ordered.

* * *

After securing Eindhoven, the troops moved toward the town of Nuenen. As the tanks and soldiers moved near its outskirts, shots were fired almost immediately, including the arrival of a German tank.

Randleman, Guarnere, and Margaret, who were each leading a small group, led them into the town. Randleman and his men moved to the right of a building while Margaret and her team ran to the left. Guarnere led a team up the center. Compton and the rest of the soldiers remained in the back with mortars and covering fire.

Margaret and her team ran to the cover of a patio, hiding behind a short garden wall. She peered over the edge of the wall, and, hidden in camouflage, she spotted a German tank in front of them. Thankfully, it wasn't activated yet.

She looked over across the street to Randleman. She signaled about the tank, and he nodded. He had spotted it too. He signaled to her and gestured to the British tanks that were making their way up the street towards them. She nodded.

"Babe, with me," she ordered. "The rest of you, stay down." She and Heffron crouched and ran to the British tank.

They climbed onto the tank, Margaret slinking to the driver. "We've got a kraut tank, 100 yards to the left by the haystack," she yelled in his ear.

The British officer looked to where she was pointing and peered through his binoculars. "I don't see it," he said.

"Put a couple shells through that building and you're going to see it real good," she yelled back.

He shook his head, looking again. "I can't do that."

She drew back, stunned. "What do you mean you can't do that?"

"I can't. My orders are no unnecessary destruction of property."

Margaret shook her head and pointed again. "I'm telling you, he's right there!"

He shrugged. "I believe you, honey, but if I can't see the bugger, I can't bloody well shoot it, can I?" he sneered. Margaret sneered back in disbelief. "Are you staying or going, sweetheart?"

Her lip curled back, but she slid from the tank. She turned to Heffron before snarling, "Fucking idiot." They had to fall back to the patio with the others.

She looked over to Randleman again and she angrily shook her head. They could only watch the next few moments. The kraut tank easily spotted the British, and blew the stubborn son of a bitch away before he could know what hit him.

Then the German tank started to move towards them. "Fall back!" Margaret and Randleman cried at the same time, moving their men away as fast as they could. Behind them came a blast, and then the patio they were huddled in moments before blew apart.

The two teams came together. She saw Randleman fall, his helmet leaving from his head. Margaret ran to him, grabbing his free hand. "Let's move, Bull!" she cried. The men in front of them already scattered back towards the main road, away from the town. Bullets exploded behind their feet, and they ran together.

Falling into the trench, they hid behind the retreating British tank that seemed to move on its own, its driver likely dead. Again, it was hit with a missile from the German tank, and shrapnel flew everywhere, taking both Randleman and Margaret down. She felt something bite her in the ass. _Goddamn it,_ she thought.

Margaret turned to Bull. "Get down, Bull!" They crawled in the shelter of the rogue tank. They could see the feet of their retreating men. _Please let Bill or Buck find them and get them back safely,_ she prayed. Still hidden, she and Randleman crawled on, their injuries slowly them, hoping to make it all the way back to safety.

Then the tank turned, sliding into the ditch in front of them, almost crushing them in the process. They quickly tucked themselves away until it was safe to move again. With just the two of them, opening fire would be suicide.

They heard the yells of the others screaming to fall back. She heard Luz radioing in for help and Compton screaming in pain. She hoped and also feared to hear Roe's soothing Cajun drawl among the chaos.

Then the sounds of truck engines ignited. Easy was finally retreating. Randleman and Margaret looked at each other, relieved for the others, but also alarmed at the state of their predicament. They were on their own.

* * *

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" Winters shouted, going from truck to truck. "Keep moving!" He leaned against the last barricade and yelled to the remaining soldiers.

Nixon came up to him, crouching beside him. "How bad is it?" he asked.

Winters grimaced. "I don't know yet." A bullet flew and he heard it hit metal. A moment later Nixon went down.

"Nix!" he ran to his friend.

"Imalright! Imalright!" Nixon mumbled. He looked to Winters. "Am I alright?"

"Yeah, yeah you feel alright?" Winters asked, searching for a wound.

Nixon shook him off. "Yeah, quick looking at me like that!" He stumbled and then got to his feet. He picked up his helmet from the ground, and they both looked at the bullet hole in awe. Lipton ran to them.

"Captain!" he cried to Winters. "We've got four dead and eleven injured," he tallied.

Winters nodded and grimaced. "Ok, let's move them out."

Lipton nodded, but then grabbed Winters' arm. "Oh and sir, Randleman and Henry are missing."

Winters felt his mouth go dry. Nixon looked to his friend and saw the battle going on inside his mind. Winters swallowed before replying to Lipton, "Ok, let's go." They got to their feet and ran to the trucks, retreating Easy from enemy territory.

* * *

Randleman helped Margaret limp towards the darkened barn with his good arm. She carried both their rifles in her arms until he placed her down face first into the hay. A string of curses fell from her mouth.

Randleman surveyed the entirety of the barn before determining it was safe. He returned to Margaret, who was still cursing. He chuckled softly, "Now if I didn't know you, I'd tell you a lady shouldn't curse."

She looked up at him and cocked one eyebrow. "And because you know me?" she prompted.

He smiled, chewing on a piece of hay, pretending it was a cigar. "Because I know you, I'd tell you that a hiding soldier shouldn't curse. The enemy may hear."

"Fuck off, Bull."

Randleman's smile widened. "That's my girl. Now where are you hurt?"

Margaret rolled her eyes. "My ass." Randleman's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, my ass, Bull. I think there's some shrapnel on the right."

"Well, hell."

She smiled up to him. "You shouldn't curse right now, soldier." she repeated. "Save it for when I dig out the shrapnel from your shoulder." Randleman nodded. "But you'll have to take care of me first. I can't bend at the waist until it's taken out." Randleman paused, but nodded again.

"Ok, let's get this over with," he said, moving towards her. He dragged her a bit until a slice of moonlight covered her. He moved his hands towards her wound, and then pulled back again.

Margaret looked back to see what caused him to pause. She saw the hesitancy on his face. "Sergeant Randleman," she hissed. "Now you listen here. Forget about being a goddamn gentleman! Rip open my pants, and fix my fucking ass!"

He gave her a look, before smirking. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, but he chewed on the hay thoughtfully before proceeding. He found the small hole in her pants to the right side and ripped it open about six inches. Next he saw blood-smeared undergarments that he cut away a bit with his knife. He paused again.

"I know my ass is a perfected gift from God, or so Bill tells me. This is your one and only chance for a feel. Get to it," she muttered.

Randleman smirked again, and began to feel the skin for the offending piece of metal. The pain instantly made her shut up, and she squeezed her eyes against the pain. She felt him use the tip of his knife to gently ease out the shrapnel. Margaret instantly felt relief.

He held the piece in front of her face. "Souvenir?" he asked. She batted it away from his bloodied hand. She turned, sitting tentatively on her left butt cheek, avoiding the right side as much as possible. There was some pain, but nothing she couldn't manage.

She moved to a kneeling position. "OK, your turn." He knelt in front of her, facing away. She ripped his shirt and jacket, revealing a much larger piece of shrapnel than hers. Like him, she used her knife to try and pry it out. He gasped and she smirked. "Payback's a bitch, huh, Bull?"

"At least you don't have to pull it from my ass," he murmured.

Margaret nodded. "Small comfort."

Just as she was about to pull the piece from his shoulder, they heard voices. A small group of krauts were laughing, but making their way towards the barn. Margaret sucked in a breath and motioned for Randleman to hide in the shadows of their pen. Without enough room or shade to also hide her, she moved to a pen across the way and slipped out of sight.

Four krauts entered the barn, quickly deciding no one was inside. Three left after a moment, but one remained, trying to light a cigarette. As he looked down, he noticed a few drops of blood and a piece of bloody metal in the hay. _Fuck_ , thought Margaret. _Should have kept it as a souvenir after all._

Curious, the German picked it up before hearing a noise in the hay where Randleman lay. Margaret's eyes grew as the kraut reached for his gun. He called out, asking if anyone was there.

Margaret knew that Randleman couldn't handle his gun properly with his injured shoulder, let alone a bayonet. And if she fired at the kraut now, that would only attract more enemies. She reached for her knife.

The German was moving slowly towards Randleman's pen, nervously calling out, his gun ready against his chest, but his finger not on the trigger. Margaret silently slipped behind him. At the last moment, she looked to Randleman and saw the whites of his eyes grew wide.

Margaret lunged. She jumped on his back, causing the kraut to fall forward and then fall to his side. She crouched low next to him, kicking away his dropped gun before diving with her knife. She thrusted it deep into the side of his neck and ripped it away again. The kraut grabbed at his throat, blood spraying the front of both of them in buckets. She took the knife again and thrust it upward from his stomach and into his ribcage. With her face close to his, she saw the life slowly leave his eyes. He slumped to the ground, dead.

She looked over to see Randleman standing, his gun and bayonet loaded in his left hand. She tried to brush blood from her face, but her hands were covered too. "Maggie?"

She walked over to him, knelt down, and took a deep breath. "Come here, Bull. Let's get that shoulder fixed."

Randleman paused, shaking his head. He did as he was told, and knelt in front of her again once more.

* * *

The next morning, they found the town to be deserted. The Germans had left. Outside, they surveyed the damage, stopping at each fallen soldier, giving a silent prayer for them.

A jeep drove up, and they quickly signaled that there were Americans. They hopped in and were taken back to camp.

"Hey Georgie, look," said Guarnere to Luz. They both looked at the incoming jeep.

"Jesus Christ," said Luz, smiling. "Bull! Mags!" They ran to them, the group growing around the car.

Luz and the others walked up to them. "Get a little lost, you two?" he asked, shaking Randleman's hand and then pulling Margaret into a hug.

Randleman looked at Margaret and smirked. She smiled back. "Something like that," she answered, hugging Guarnere next.

Roe found her, a troubled look on his face. She was covered in blood. He didn't say a word, his hands searching for a wound. She stopped him, nodded softly that she was OK. He nodded too and gave her a tight hug. Margaret didn't want to let go.

Guarnere chuckled. "I don't know whether to slap you, kiss you, or salute you."

Margaret peered over Roe's shoulder, still embraced. "I'm not smooching you, Bill."

Guarnere scoffed. "I wasn't talking to you, Maggie," he grinned, and slapped Randleman's shoulder. They all laughed, walking to the trucks.

Roe released Margaret and took her head between his hands. His soulful eyes looked deep into hers. "You ok?" She nodded, smiling. He smiled back, content.

Suddenly, a cry from an officer from above them. "Grab your gear, we're heading out!"

Randleman smirked to Margaret before shouting for his men to head out. Margaret did the same. She helped her men load into a truck, before hoisting herself in. Luz came up behind her.

"Mags, your pants are ripped," he said, looking at her back.

Margaret rolled her eyes. "Stop staring at my ass, George." She sat on the end of the truck, gingerly only contacting the bench with her left cheek. Roe's eyes flashed to her and narrowed. She smiled sheepishly. _I'm in for it now_ , she thought.

The truck began to move out, and she saw Winters staring at the departing platoons. She caught his eye, smiled, and nodded to him. Awestruck, it took him a moment, but he nodded back, watching her go.


	14. Dose of Civalization

**Thank you for the kind review! I appreciate it so much.**

* * *

Two weeks later, Easy moved into the town of Schoonderlogt. Although mostly secure, a fair share of injuries would occur on the line. Just now, Alley was carried in by the men, after suffering intense injuries from a grenade blast. Roe attempted to stop the bleeding from his many lacerations, but it didn't look good.

"Assemble a squad!" shouted Winters, and he turned to Liebgott. "Where did it happen?"

Liebgott looked away from his bloodied friend and to Winters. "At the crossroads."

Winters nodded. "Easy with me. Talbert is taking lead. Let's move!"

The group nodded, Margaret grabbing her helmet and rifle from the corner. Malarkey and Luz coming up from behind her. They began their slow journey through the tall grass to the crossroads.

"How's the ass, sweetcheeks?" whispered Luz, a grin on his face.

Margaret turned to him and grinned back, thankful for the distraction from the thick tension. "Sore," she replied.

"You've got a sore ass, sarg? Best come to Georgie. He'll make it better," he winked.

She rolled her eyes, but nudged him in the ribs. "In your _wet_ dreams, George," she whispered back. Malarkey swallowed his laugh as Luz scowled.

They continued until arriving to the trench on the side of one road. She saw Winters and Talbert discussing their next move, jealous that she wasn't leading this one. Then Dukeman bumped into her, making her rear end scream in pain. She wasn't exactly up to full speed.

 _I'm lucky to be on low speed_ , she thought as they waited for orders. _If it was up to Eugene, I'd be in the aid station with a pillow on my ass and a chocolate bar in my hand._ She rolled her eyes to herself.

Suddenly they saw Winters start to climb the hill to the road. Talbert signaled back to them to stay here and wait for the signal.

Within a few minutes, they saw the shadowed face of Winters again on the hill. He signaled to Talbert, who in turn, signaled to everyone else to move the line across the street and down onto the other side. They did so quickly, silently falling down beside one another.

Winters motioned to them and whispered, "This is our fallback position here. Mortars deploy here. First squad, on me. Go!" And then he started to lead them through the trenches towards the enemy.

After half the men remained behind to deploy mortars, half were left including Margaret to fight on the front line with Winters. He stopped them when they heard German voices coming from the area ahead. He belly crawled up the hill. After a moment of watching the enemy, he signaled to them to follow him.

Quickly, they lined up around him, rifles ready, their eyes wide. In front of them was a small group of German officers, looking down into the field below them. Their backs were to Easy.

Winters then crawled to each man, whispering orders. When he got to Margaret, he whispered, "Third on the right." She met his eyes and nodded. He moved onto to Dukeman beside her. They waited for his signal.

Winters peered down his gun. Everyone seemed to stop breathing and time stood still. Suddenly, he fired. All soldiers immediately followed his lead and they continued to shoot until he cried, "Fall back!"

The mortar team initiated their attack, and kraut after kraut fell. Margaret and the rest of first squad fell back to their original position, joining the mortar team. Margaret flopped hard onto her belly, took aim, and began firing once more. She noticed Dukeman land next to her, starting his rifle once more.

Winters ran behind them. "Suppressing fire! Suppressing fire!" he ordered. Bullets rang around them, lighting the sky like a meteor shower. He grabbed Luz's radio, calling for more guns and backup. "Dukeman! Go get the other machine gun!"

Dukeman stood to go, but immediately was hit and went down next to Margaret. He laid there next to her, his eyes unseeing. They remained like that late into the night, until the Germans stopped shooting in the early morning hours.

* * *

After consulting his map for a long time, Winters crawled to them after the sun was out. "OK everyone, we have no choice but to initiate an attack. If we stay here, they will eventually figure out our position." Everyone nodded, but was silent.

"One group of men is to go along the dike. One has the left flank, and the rest in the middle with me. Questions?" Everyone remained silent, but shook their heads.

Winters nodded, and then whispered. "Fixed bayonets." A moment after everyone was ready. "Go on the red smoke."

Winters pulled the pin from the smoke grenade. Then, to their astonishment, he got up and started running towards the enemy by himself.

Margaret's jaw dropped. _What the hell is he thinking. He's going to be annihilated!_ She screamed internally. But when a private started to stand, she had enough sense left to knock him back down. "No! We wait on the red smoke!"

She watched Winters' body getting smaller and smaller as he distanced himself from them. She felt a pang in her heart, not knowing if she'd ever see him alive again. After what felt like an eternity, the red smoke appeared.

Together they got up and ran. Her breathing became staggered and heavy. To her left, she saw a third of the men part, and to her right another third did the same. She and the rest of the men ran directly behind Winters' path, hoping to catch up to him. She heard a shot and looked up.

Against the early morning light, she saw his outline then he sent shot after shot into the field below. Somehow, he remained alive. He moved to one knee, continuing to fire.

Finally she and the other arrived. Immediately onto their bellies, they joined their Captain, shooting kraut after kraut. The Germans, unprepared, began to flee. _Like shooting fish in a barrel_ , she thought.

Too soon for such victorious thoughts, another company of Germans arrived over the hill.

"Oh shit!" she heard Luz cry. Erasing everything from her mind, she continued to shoot. Absently, she felt a bullet whiz past her ear, but she continued shooting, hell bent on ignoring the danger around her.

Winters grabbed for Luz's radio. She heard him give coordinates for an air strike. _Hurry_ , she thought. As if a breath later, the airstrike arrived, but with it, a response from the Germans,

"Take cover!" called Winters. "German artillery!" She heard men go down around her, moaning. Finally, silence.

Afterwards, Easy rounded up the German prisoners. "Jesus, Captain," she heard someone call, "they're SS."

Margaret looked over to see Winters peering at a dead kraut, not even old enough to shave yet. His eyes looked troubled, but Margaret couldn't help but gaze and wonder how Winters was still alive.

Luz walked up to her. He slung his arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the truck together. "OK, Mags?"

"Yeah, I'm good. And you, George?"

Luz grinned. "Better than ever. Let's get out of this hell hole."

As they pulled away, she noticed Winters crouched against a post, deep in thought. Margaret felt the urge to jump from the truck and go see if he was OK. Before she could stand from her seat, she saw Nixon approaching him. Content that Winters had a friend to speak to, she sat back down beside Luz, who looked at her with a curious expression on his battle worn face.

* * *

Word quickly spread that Winters was promoted after the Crossroads battle. He would be leading the entire battalion now, leaving Lieutenant Heyliger in charge of Easy company.

Unfortunately, Heylinger's command of Easy didn't last long. One night while Winters and Heylinger were walking and speaking over their next moves, Heylinger was accidentally shot by friendly fire. At only 65% strength, Easy company was now given a new replacement CO, Lieutenant Norman Dike.

As the weather grew colder, Easy was relocated to Allied-occupied France to rest before moving back into enemy territory. Trying to enter Germany through Holland didn't succeed. Their next step was to try through the frozen French tundra.

Winters was getting agitated. With Heyliger gone, rumors about Dike were already starting to come in.

"Three weeks in and the men are already calling him 'Foxhole Norman,'" Welsh said, making a cup of coffee in Winters' office.

"Apparently he doesn't like action," added Nixon.

Winters tried to keep the grimace from his face. Nixon looked at Welsh and he nodded. "Well, I guess now is a good a time as any," he said, pulling a piece of paper from his jacket.

Winters saw it and froze. "What? Is that a piece of paper? I don't want to see another piece of paper," he groaned.

Nixon stood, throwing the paper on his desk. "You, my friend, are headed to Paris."

"City of Lights," Welsh interjected.

Nixon grinned at the incredulous look on Winters' face. "That's a 48 hour pass. It's been decided you need a little dose of civilization." Winters fidgeted with the pen in his hand. "You leave 0900 tomorrow. Bon voyage."

Winters looked between the two of them, their faces holding matching evil grins. He sighed, knowing he was defeated.

* * *

Winters sat outside a small Parisian cafe. He tried to drown out the noise of the crowded square in front of him. Finally, when a naval officer bumped into his chair, knocking Winters coffee from his hand, he sighed and stood up. He had just arrived in Paris a few hours ago, and already he wanted to return to headquarters.

Leaving a tip on his table, he moved into the square. Determined to find a quiet corner or even the confines of his hotel room for sanctuary, he turned left to go down the lane away from the crowds when he heard it.

Her laugh rang from across the square. Quickly twisting around, he looked for the source. After a few moments, he decided that he must have imagined it. It wasn't like she hadn't infiltrated his dreams in the past. Being alone, surrounded by women and couples in Paris, he must have imagined Margaret Henry.

He turned to walk down the lane again, when he heard it again, louder this time. His ears perked up, and he turned and walked to the right down the road, across the square.

There, in front of a flower cart, dressed in a simple shirt dress and black heels, Margaret laughed loudly again as the flower man blatantly flirted with her. He pressed one long stemmed white rose in her hand, forcing her to take it. She smiled her thanks, and began to walk away from the cart.

Her head remained bent, her attention completely on the beautiful rose. Winters couldn't help but look her over. Her loose dress softly hugged her curves, and her long hair was swept back with a pin. She must have brushed on a little lipstick, because he could swear her lips had never been that ruby pink before. He removed his gaze from her bare legs a moment before she was about to run into him.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" she cried, and then her eyes met his. "Captain Winters!"

Winters stopped her assault on him when placing a hand on each shoulder, steadying them both. "Margaret? What are you doing here?"

Margaret blinked a few times before she returned to her senses. She had always known Winters was handsome, and even though she had tried repeatedly to not be attracted to him, she couldn't help but admire his dress uniform on him. With a start, she recalled the last time she saw him in it was when he danced with her.

She blinked again. "There was a lottery and I received a 48 hours pass to Paris. Exciting, huh? I arrived only a few hours ago," she explained. She paused, "and you sir?"

Winters clenched his teeth, removing his hands from her shoulders. _Nixon_ , he thought annoyed. _Probably Welsh too. They're in for it_. He noticed that she was still awaiting his answer. He coughed and replied, "I have a 48 hour pass too." He stopped, meeting her gaze. His expression softened.

She saw his eyes meet hers, and she smiled. "I've never been here before, have you, sir?"

Winters smiled back. "Please call me Dick, Margaret." Her smile deepened. "And I've never been either."

There was a long pause. Silence awkwardly enclosed them until he coughed again. He held out his arm to her. "Would you care to get lost with me, Margaret?"

Margaret paused. She could have sworn she heard "get lost _in_ him," but then again she _was_ staring into his cerulean eyes. She smiled softly. "I would love to, Dick." She hooked her hand into the crook of his elbow and they started to walk away from the square.


	15. Blame It On Paris

**Thank you again for the amazing review! Your kind words help me evolve Margaret.**

 **Again, these chapters moving forward will be M rated. You've been warned (again)!**

* * *

As they turned down the lane towards the hotel, Margaret felt her cheeks flush. Whether from the evening air or from her company, she wasn't sure. Winters noticed and stopped walking. He took off his jacket and motioned to her.

"Oh, no, Dick. I'm not cold, and we're nearly there," she said. He only raised and eyebrow and she held up her hands in surrender. He moved behind her and helped her slide into his jacket. He held out his arm again for her to take before walking again.

Her hand barely peeked out from his long sleeve. She couldn't help but deeply inhale his scent, a unique mix of the outdoors and soap, plus something she couldn't name.

He grinned down at her, taking in her expression. "What kind of soldier would I be if I let a lady freeze?"

Margaret laughed, "I admit that I am missing the comfort of my uniform and its many layers, but as progressive as the Army has become, a woman infantry trooper in the public eye has not yet made the cut. Luckily I have two dresses with me."

Winters smiled. "I think you look very nice," he said. She caught his eye, blushing. "Even if you're freezing."

She stopped and giggled. "I promise you, I'm not! I run hot, my mother has always said so. Here," she reached over and took his hand in hers. Sure enough, his cool touch immediately became warmed by her fire.

Surprising them both, he took her hand and placed it on his cold cheek. Her laughter caught in her throat as she felt the gentle slopes of his face. He resisted the urge to lean into her touch. Embarrassed, Winters took her hand down again, but he didn't let go.

They walked the remainder of the street to the hotel in silence. Surprisingly to her (but not to him as he figured this was Nixon's doing), they were staying at the same hotel, even on the same floor, although a few doors away.

Winters walked her to her room. She took off his jacket and handed it to him. He took it, deep in thought. Then he cleared his throat. "I had a great time today," he said.

Her eyes started to dance with humor. "I have never had so much fun getting lost before," she teased.

Winters laughed, scratching his chin. He looked at her again. Before he could second guess himself, he asked, "Would you like to get lost with me again tomorrow?"

Margaret beamed. "I would love that."

Winters smiled back, relief evident on his face. "Then goodnight, Margaret." He leaned in and gently brushed his lips on her hot cheek. He felt her cheek burn hotter beneath his lips.

Margaret blushed deeply and kissed him back. "Until tomorrow, Dick." He pulled back, gave her a nod. She opened the door to her room, gave him one last smile before closing the door.

* * *

They met in the breakfast parlor the next morning. Winters was already enjoying his second cup of coffee when he saw her, which almost caused him to spill said coffee.

She walked down the staircase in a deep blue dress with a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt down to her knees. She was wearing a bit of the lipstick again, and her long hair was pinned away from her face, cascading down her back.

Winters' breath hitched in his throat before he finally broke through his daze and stood. Margaret sheepishly wished him a good morning. "Sorry I'm so overdressed," she continued, ringing her hands nervously. "Like I mentioned yesterday, I luckily had two dresses with me, but that was all. I was saving this one for a post war celebration. Not traipsing through a strange city in the middle of combat."

He gave her a big smile, but said nothing. He reached over to stop her fidgeting. Winters took her hand and led her to a small table near a bay window. "Are you hungry?" He asked.

She nodded. "Famished."

He chuckled. "Good, I have already ordered everything off the menu. You eat whatever you'd like."

Margaret's eyes turned innocent. "But then what will you eat?" He laughed loudly as that as the waiter came over with more coffee.

* * *

Throughout the day, they explored the city, thoroughly enjoying getting lost once again. The only difference from yesterday was instead of walking arm in arm, they walked hand in hand.

They decided to try the local metro, climbing aboard a random train, not caring where it took them. With the train almost empty, they squeezed into a double seat together anyway. Margaret sat by the window, trying not to focus on his long leg up against her own.

He held her hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on the back. He glanced at her, and she blushed. _It feels like he can see right through me_.

Winters looked into her eyes and saw her blush. It made him marvel that one simple look from him could make her cheeks pinken, especially considering all the crude behavior she dealt with daily from the Easy boys. The thought made his chest flutter.

She smiled again and looked out the window of the metro, watching the lights fly by, trying to catch her breath. Winters also looked away, craning his neck when he heard a coin drop behind them.

A young man sat there, barely old enough to be considered a man. He saw Winters looking at him and he smiled. Winters froze, quickly turning away.

The lights in the train flashed on and off as it raced through the city. Winters looked back at the boy again, and once again what he saw made his heart stop.

Margaret felt Winters freeze. She looked over at him, but he was staring straight ahead, his face blanched. "Dick, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer her. She saw him twitch his glance back at the boy and then forward again, frozen in his seat. She looked back at the young man, who smiled at her. She smiled softly back, before returning her attention back to Winters.

"Dick, talk to me. What's going on?" She murmured, squeezing his hand. He glanced at her but couldn't speak. The train stopped and he tugged on her hand as he moved to leave.

They climbed the stairs until they were outside again, the afternoon sun warming his face. The cold sweat on his forehead began to dry. He closed his eyes and leaned against the pillar.

Margaret was silent. She could see that he needed a moment, so she just held his hand and waited. Finally he opened his eyes. He looked at her, and opened his mouth to speak when the boy showed up at the top of the stairs. He saw them and saluted to him, grinning. Winters didn't salute back, but Margaret waved to him until he disappeared.

Winters closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. She took both his hands in hers and stood in front of him, rubbing warmth into his clammy skin. Again, finally, he opened his eyes.

"He reminded me of someone," he whispered.

Margaret waited. "He reminded me of the first German soldier I killed at the crossroads. He was just a kid." Now that he had begun his tale, it didn't seem he could stop talking until it was all out. "I got to the top of that hill, and there he was. He didn't know I was about to kill him. He didn't recognize my uniform at first. But then, when he felt the bullet, he realized what had happened. What I had done." He stopped, hanging his head.

Margaret paused, making sure he was done before moving one hand to his cheek. She ran a thumb over his cheekbone, lifting his face to meet hers before speaking. "You did what needed to be done and nothing else, Dick. War is a terrible thing, but you are a good man."

Winters looked deep into her eyes and felt something shift inside him. Mimicking her movement, he took his free hand and cupped her cheek. With his thumb, he traced her cheekbone before following her jawline and leading to her chin. Finally, his thumb brushed against her lips.

His gaze left hers when he looked down at her slightly parted lips but then back up to meet her eyes again. A heartbeat more, and he gently slid his lips against hers.

Margaret froze, her heart racing in her chest. She watched as his eyes traveled to her lips but when they returned to hers, the clear blue color had darkened. A moment later, and she felt his cool, dry lips touch hers.

The kiss was gentle and chaste, but held a promise of something more. Margaret ached to wrap her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, but her arms seemed to have detached from her body. She could only kiss him back.

It took everything in him not to push her into the pillar wall and deepen the kiss when he felt her kiss him back. He was about to sling an arm around her waist and throw caution to the wind, when the screech of a laughing child caused both of them to startle.

They broke apart, both breathing heavily, although the kiss couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Silence enveloped them until Winters brushed a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and smiled. Margaret smiled back and he took her hand in his again.

* * *

"I believe I could have you court martialed, Dick," Margaret moaned. She had her heels off inside the cab, and she rubbed her tired feet.

Winters laughed, his arm across the back of the seat. "For what?"

Margaret gave him a mock glare. "For trying to kill me today. I believe we have seen every site Paris has to offer."

The cab driver spoke up. "Oh no, mademoiselle. That is impossible. Our great city has secrets I have yet to find, and I was born here!" Winters laughed at Margaret's pout.

"I miss my boots," she muttered, still rubbing her feet.

The cab pulled up in front of the hotel. After paying the driver, Winters met Margaret at the top of the stairs. She didn't go through the open door, both the bell hop and Winters giving her a curious glance.

"Margaret? Why did you stop?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm bracing myself." Before he could ask for what, she grimaced and slid on her shoes again. Winters smirked at her pained expression.

Margaret let out a deep breath. "Ok, I'm ready for dinner."

Winters held out his hand and led her into the parlour, the smile never leaving his face.

* * *

Margaret cocked her head to the side as she finished her creme brûlée. She licked the leftover sugar from her spoon. Winters sat across from her, smiling incredulously.

"What?" she asked. He only shook his head, laughing. "What?" she asked again, giggling.

"You just seem to be enjoying that."

She rolled her eyes but continued to smile. "It's delicious. Are you sure you don't want to try it?"

He held up a hand. "This is much more entertaining, believe me." She stuck out her tongue at him and he chuckled.

She was feeling a bit giddy. The waiter was a little overzealous with the glass of wine he poured her, and she could feel her cheeks flush. Wine always did go to her head.

Winters watched her lick the spoon one more time, the laughter leaving him suddenly, rapidly replaced by desire. She looked up then and saw his expression.

Margaret gulped. She had never seen his eyes so dark, the navy color was steeped in longing. She glanced away, but then couldn't help but look again through her lashes. He stood abruptly.

"I think I'm finished." He placed some money on the table, not waiting for a check. Margaret stood as well, she could feel her knees knocking together.

He held out his hand, as though asking a silent question, and she took it, her eyes never leaving his. They walked silently up the stairs.

At the third floor, they barely made it to her door. Winters grabbed her face with both hands, engulfing her mouth with his. He pressed his body into hers, her back digging into the wall behind them.

Margaret's heart burst. She wrapped her hands around his slim hips, urging him to get closer to her. She could feel his need on her hip, and she dug her fingers into the strong muscles of his back.

Winters broke the kiss only long enough to wrap his arms around her, allowing her to finally circle her arms around his neck, something she had been aching to do for ages. He pulled her hard against him. Neither could get close enough.

Struggling to breathe, Margaret tore her lips from his, but he continued his assault down her neck. She gasped at the sensation, tugging at his hair with her fingers. She felt him move the sleeve of her dress to the side so he could taste the skin of her shoulder.

Her skin was so soft and scorching hot to the touch. He couldn't get enough of her, as he moved to kiss and lick along the sweetheart line of her dress. He heard her gasp again as he gently caressed the top of her breast with his lips. He felt her tugging hard at his hair, and he returned to her lips, capturing them again in a searing kiss.

Someone cleared their throat behind them nervously. They broke up, frozen. "Excuse me, Captain Winters?"

He sighed and turned to the hotel clerk, dropping his arms from her and pulling away. "Yes, that's me."

Margaret turned her face away, attempting to catch her breath and clean herself up. Her face blazed with embarrassment.

The clerk handed Winters a paper. "Urgent message from headquarters, sir." He nodded his thanks and the clerk nodded back. He tipped his hat to Margaret. "Mademoiselle." And then he left.

Winters gruffly scanned the paper before folding it and placing it in his pocket. He looked to her, his expression softening. "Margaret?"

She turned back to look at him, her face still red. She gave him a small smile. "Duty calls?"

He nodded, his hands safely in hjs pockets. "Actually for both of us. Easy is moving out. We need to catch an earlier train in the morning than originally planned. The first one if possible."

"OK," she murmured, unsure of what to say.

He swallowed. "Margaret when we get back…"

She stopped him with a hand on his chest. She looked down at it before removing it again. The feel of his racing heart beneath her fingers was too much. "Dick, you don't need to say more. I understand."

Winters stared at her, unsure on how to move forward. She continued. "You are my commanding officer. I am your sergeant. This can't go further. We are in the middle of a war." She sighed, before starting again. "Maybe if we were in a different place and a different time…"

Winters took her hand then. "If we were in a different place and a different time, we never would have met, so I don't wish for that." He stopped, deep in thought.

She smiled sadly. "Nonetheless, this can't go any farther." She laughed humorlessly. "I blame Paris for getting us this far."

He smiled back, and raised her hand to before his lips. "I thank Paris for the past two days. I would never take it back." He kissed her hand.

With that he turned and walked down to his room before disappearing beyond the door. Margaret went into her room where she slid into bed still in her blue dress and her pinching shoes. She then cried herself to sleep.


	16. Can't Know That

The next morning came quickly, burning bright and cold. Winter seemed to arrive overnight. Margaret fidgeted with her pack, standing in the lobby. Her feet ached in her heels.

Winters saw her as he descended the stairs. She was in her shirt dress again, but her hair was up in its token bun. He felt a pang of loss unrelated to her beautiful hair.

She felt his presence before hearing him approach. She took a deep breath, and turned. Margaret smiled shyly to him. "Ready, Captain?"

He smiled softly back, cringing a bit at the formality. He could tell she was waiting for something. He held out his hand, and she took it tentatively. "I know I am being selfish for asking this, but I was wondering if we could hold onto Paris for a bit longer?"

Margaret didn't answer. She looked at him, her eyes confused and guarded. He stepped closer to her. "I'd like to hold your hand this morning, Margaret. At least, until the train arrives at the station." He paused, unsure. "If that's OK."

She stared at him for a long time, contemplating. She was up most of the night, bracing and preparing herself for the inevitable, for when they had to return to CO and soldier. Finally, her heart won and she smiled. "I'd like that." Winters' smile grew.

He took off his jacket at once and laid it across her shoulders. He then took her bag, smirking at the contrast of the camouflage sack, his dress uniform jacket, and her pretty dress. She saw his look, and she chuckled. Trying not to be obvious, she took a deep breath of his scent, trying to memorize it.

Together, they walked from the hotel and from their Paris daydreams.

* * *

Easy was scheduled to head to the front lines in Belgium the next morning. The night before, most of the troops gathered to watch a movie - although most had seen it several times at that point. Variety of entertainment was hard to come by.

Luz decided he would fill that role. "Look at me, I'm John Wayne. The costume department set me up with these great Navy whites. What do you think?" he mocked in his best Wayne drawl.

Margaret tried to swallow her giggle. She slouched in a chair next to him, chewing on popcorn.

Guarnere and Lipton glared back at them. "Shut up, Luz," hissed Guarnere.

Lipton added, "I'm trying to watch the movie."

Luz shrugged, his eyes wide. "I've seen this movie thirteen times, ok?"

"Yeah, well, I've never seen it," Lipton replied before turning back.

Margaret stared at the movie without really watching. "I've seen it fourteen times."

Luz turned to her. "No way. How did you manage to beat my record?"

She grinned at him. "You mean my record, Georgie."

Roe sat down in the chair next to her. "Hey Maggie," he murmured.

She turned to him, smiling, but keeping her eyes on the screen. "Hi Eugene, have you seen this one?"

He barely glanced at it. "About fifteen times."

Luz poked Margaret in the ribs before loudly whispering in her ear, "New record!" Guarnere and Lipton shushed them again.

Roe tried to catch her eye. "I was hoping to see you this morning when you arrived. How was your trip?"

Margaret opened her mouth to reply, but Luz beat her to it. "You didn't see her this morning? When she stepped out of that jeep with Winters in that hot little dress. Damn, girl. I think you killed half of Easy and the other half of Fox with those legs."

Margaret smacked Luz hard in the chest, causing him to whimper. Another shush from up front.

Roe continued to ignore them and the movie. She wouldn't meet his eye and that concerned him very much. "No, I didn't see her," he murmured. Seeing her hand on her knee, he grasped it gently in his. She looked down at it.

"Maggie?" he whispered. "How was your trip?"

Margaret took a deep breath and finally looked up at Roe. She tried to swallow the tears in her throat, but they wouldn't go away. Her voice became throaty. "It was fine. I had a nice time."

Roe searched her eyes and saw pain. It hurt him that he couldn't take it from her. He tightened the grip on his hand and nodded. "OK." It was more of a question.

She nodded back. "OK." And then she turned back to the movie, but refused to let go of his hand.

Luz, oblivious, nudged Lipton with his foot. "Lip, my favorite part." He pulled on his cigarette. "Got that penny? Got. That. Penny. _Got that penny?_ "

"Luz!"

* * *

Nixon ran up to Winters. "Dick! I've been looking for you all day. Where've you been?"

Winters looked briefly at his friend but continued to walk. "I thought you were the intelligence officer, Nix, or haven't you heard? We're heading back out. 0500."

Nixon rolled his eyes. "Of course I know. I wanted to see how your getaway was."

Winters felt his jaw clench. "It was fine."

"Just fine?" Nixon jogged to keep up. "I highly doubt it was just fine."

Winters stopped abruptly. Nixon almost crashed into his back. He turned, glowering at his friend. "And I highly doubt that you believe for a moment that I wouldn't see right through the little stunt you pulled."

Nixon grinned lopsidedly. "Stunt? It was an opportunity! She was nice company, no?"

Winters started walking again. "Drop it, Lew." And before Nixon could say another word, Winters stormed away.

* * *

It was deep into the night by the time the 506th arrived in Bastogne, Belgium. The soldiers were allowed to take a short break to warm up before leaving for town. Fires were lit quickly before anyone froze.

As they turned to march, they saw retreating soldiers walking aimlessly in the other direction. Margaret covered her mouth with her hand. The majority of them looked to be dead men walking.

Guarnere and Malarkey quickly began demanding their ammo. Pocketing as much as possible, they next turned to them for extra rations.

The sight of the those soldiers affected Easy company more than they could say. What were they headed towards?

* * *

As quickly as possible, each company arrived to their set position and to dig deep foxholes. Luckily, the earth wasn't completely frozen yet, so the task only lasted a few hours. The exercise also warmed them up a bit.

Within a few days, Bastogne became a frozen wasteland. The white of the snow and heavy fog was blinding. Soldiers, both American and German, would get lost, struggling to find their way. Roe managed to get lost several times, each time worse than the last. Whenever he was gone looking for supplies, Margaret couldn't rest until he was safely back.

Night had fallen, and Margaret was waiting anxiously in her foxhole alone. Usually she was joined by at least two other Easy men. They realized quickly that her unusual warmth was worth a trade or two of cigarettes. They bet and bargained each other for their chance to sleep next to her.

Tonight though, she waited for Roe.

Finally, she heard footsteps coming near her covered hole. She grasped her knife in her hand, just in case. Before he peered in, he whispered her name announcing his arrival. He then opened the flap, chilled air rushing in, before sliding beside her.

"Any luck?" she asked him, taking his helmet from his head.

He frowned. "I got some bandages from Captain Winters, but I still need those scissors." He noticed her freeze briefly at the sound of the Captain's name. It has been five days since her arrival back to camp, but she still hadn't told him what was going on.

He leaned back against the wall of the foxhole, bringing his knees up. She immediately curled herself around his side, taking his ice cold hands in hers, attempting to warm his fingers.

Roe watched their hands for awhile before he spoke. "You know, Maggie. I want you to know that you can talk to me. You can tell me anything and I will never be angry with you and I will never repeat what you say. Ever."

Margaret listened to the soothing sound of his voice, but his words brought tears to her eyes instantly. She also looked at their conjoined hands. "I know, Eugene," she whispered.

He waited to see if she would continue. Right when he thought she wouldn't, she opened her mouth. Once she started, she found she couldn't stop.

"When I was in Paris, I bumped into Captain Winters," she murmured, barely louder than a breath. "He… well he and I spent our time away together." The corner of her mouth twitched up in memory. "We explored the city together. I had never had such a wonderful time."

Roe smiled softly, silent. He laced his fingers with hers before tucking them against his chest, trying for more warmth.

Margaret sighed. "We also...we kissed," she blurted out. She looked at Roe's face, expecting his stern look. Instead his eyes were soft. He didn't look surprised.

Margaret looked away and tucked herself closer to him. "Anyway, it can't happen again. But that's why I've been so...out of sorts, I guess." She paused. "And I need to apologize to you, Eugene. I tried to avoid you when I came back. I knew you would see that something was up. That was wrong of me, and I'm so sorry." Her eyes filled with tears.

Roe shook his head and kissed her forehead. His lips were like ice. "No need to apologize, _cherie_ ," he murmured. He paused, before continuing. "Are you alright?"

Margaret leaned her head against Roe's shoulder. He felt her body start to shake with unshed tears. It was a long time before she responded. "I think I love him, Eugene," she whispered.

Roe was silent a moment before nodding. "For what it's worth, I think he loves you too."

She sighed, burrowing her head deeper into his jacket. "You can't know that."

He sighed in return before turning and placing a kiss on her forehead again. "What are we going to do with you, Margaret Henry?"

* * *

Winters was growing agitated. He paced the tent, wearing a trail into the earth. He was cornered and he didn't like it. "Nixon, stop. It wasn't like that."

Nixon smirked. "Romantic rendezvous. In Paris." He teased.

Winters' eyes grew dark. "Nixon," he growled.

"Same hotel. Same room perhaps?"

Winters threw his hands in the air and turned on his friend. "Stop insinuating that we slept together. It was nothing. It was just a…" he stopped, catching himself.

Nixon's eyes gleamed triumphantly. "Just a what, Dick?"

Winters opened his mouth and closed it again. Defeated, he sank into a chair. "We kissed, ok?" he murmured, running his hands through his hair. He stopped. The action reminded him too much of her hands stroking him.

Nixon smirked. His humor in the situation reignited Winters' anger. He stood again, walking dangerously toward Nixon. "And before you say another word, it ended there. It can never go any further and it can never happen again." He got in front of Nixon, his voice low. "I am her commanding officer and no matter how much I may want it to happen again, it can't. No matter how much I just want to touch her or be the one to make her laugh, no matter how much it kills me that I can't even hold her hand, I need to push her away." Winters rubbed a hand over his face, now exhausted.

Nixon stared, stunned. "You love her." Winters looked him in the eye. It was a long moment before he nodded.

Temporarily at a loss for words, Nixon took a breath. He grasped Winters' shoulder. "Then screw the rules. Go find her. Love her."

Winters' eyes grew hard again. "I am her commanding officer and she is my sergeant." Nixon opened his mouth again to argue, but he stopped him again. "What do you think will happen if we are found out? I don't care how progressive the Army thinks it is when they allowed women to enlist." He sighed, his eyes depicting his struggle. "They would eat her alive, and I can't allow that to happen."

Nixon knew it was true. He sighed and squeezed Winters' shoulder. "Well, you never know, Dick. Maybe we'll survive this war and you can sweep her off her feet."

Winters grimaced and smiled bitterly. Nixon's eyes became soft and he squeezed his shoulder again. "Not for nothing, I think she loves you, too."

"You can't know that."


	17. To Be Consoled As To Console

The trees had finally stopped exploding, at least for the moment. Every day seemed to hold another battle. Margaret returned to the base, tired and dirty, not sure whose blood she wore. She felt a dull ache in her bones unrelated to the cold.

There was silence around camp as everyone tried to accept John Julian's death. They all made sure to visit Heffron a few times a day; he was his best friend.

Margaret had just come from his foxhole where she also left Roe. He stayed to coax Heffron into eating some chocolate.

"Hey Maggie."

"Hey guys," she replied, crouching next to their foxhole. Perconte and Liebgott looked up at her. "Everything alright?"

They nodded, hugging their rifles to their chest. "You know, staying toasty."

Margaret laughed lightly, already looking to the next foxhole. She moved to stand up.

"Wait, Maggie," Liebgott said, reaching out for her arm. "You wouldn't mind staying for a bit, would you?"

She looked at both of them, their teeth chattering. She smiled warmly. "Not at all." She jumped down into their burrow, sitting between them. They instantly gravitated towards her warmth. She wrapped an arm around each of them. "I can stay a few minutes."

* * *

Over an hour later, she left them, Perconte instantly groaning when he felt the cold air hit where her arm just was. "Hurry back," he said sadly. She blew them a kiss.

Next, she spotted Guarnere and Toye in a long dug out hole, a machine gun staring at the German line across the fog-seeped field. Margaret jumped in, waking Toye with a start.

"Maggie, thank God for you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Guarnere breathed, instantly burrowing into her side. His frozen nose found her neck and rubbed.

Margaret giggled. "That tickles, Bill! Cut it out!" She took his hands in hers and massaged the blood to start coursing again. She looked to Toye, whose scowl didn't leave his face. "Joe, are you ok?" He simply closed his eyes, unable to move.

Guarnere shook his head. "Old Joe lost his boots in the last mortar attack."

Margaret looked shocked. "Joe! You don't have anything on your feet?" Toye shook his head, attempting to smile, but failing. She frowned deeply. "I'll speak to Eugene. He can try and find some the next time he's in town."

She moved from Guarnere, who began to protest. "Come on, Bill, just scooch over and you can hug my back." She reached Toye and reached down. She found one of his sock-clad feet.

Massaging one and then the other, he groaned in pain. "That hurts, Maggie."

She nodded. "It's going to hurt at first. But remember, pain means you still have feet to feel." He grimaced, but nodded.

"Well, this's something I think I never want to see again," came a voice. The three of them looked up to see Captain Nixon above them. Margaret was leaning on her side against the wall of the hole, facing Toye. Her bent legs were hugged over his. Guarnere was cuddled up against her back, his head leaning into her warm neck. They were quite the sight.

Guarnere smirked. "You don't know what you're missing, Captain." Margaret smacked him on the head. "Ow! I meant how warm you are." Another smack. "OW! I meant that you must have a constant fever or something! She's a walking oven!" Guarnere rubbed the sore spot on his head.

Nixon looked at her. "Is that right?" She shrugged, noncommittal. "Watch yourself, or Doc is going to send you to the aid station to warm the wounded."

Margaret rolled her eyes. "As if he hasn't tried already."

Nixon grinned. "Anyone see Lieutenant Dike?" They all muttered. "I'm taking that as a no." He turned, waving "As you were."

Margaret watched him go. "OK boys, I need to move on." They groaned. "Joe, what size shoe are you?"

He ground his teeth, trying to stop the chattering. "Nine. Like everyone else."

* * *

Margaret found Roe later after making her rounds, in the foxhole alone. She sunk down next to him. He stared blindly into the snow in front of him.

"Joe Toye is missing some boots. Think you can grab some the next time you're in Bastogne?" she asked, nudging him. Roe didn't answer. "Eugene?"

He seemed to wake from a stupor. "Yeah." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, Maggie, no problem."

Margaret studied his face. "Are you OK, Eugene?" She took his hands in hers. They were colder than ice. He turned to her.

"Jesus, Maggie, how can you stay so warm? Your hands are burning me," he murmured, but not as a complaint.

She smiled softly, squeezing his fingers. "Why don't you ask Captain Winters if you can go into town for a supply run? Then you can get a hot meal. And some shoes for Toye."

Roe nodded without really listening. She put a hand to his face and turned him towards her until he looked her in the eye. "You can go see that nurse you told me about. What was her name?"

That did it. Roe blushed, and she felt heat enter his cheeks. "Renee," he said softly.

"Renee," she repeatedly, smiling at him. "I bet she could use some help, too."

Roe nodded again. She had to practically push him from the foxhole. "Go to her. Get away from all this for awhile." He looked down at her, looking as if he was about to argue. "For me," she added. "I need you." He smiled tentatively, and then turned to go. "Oh, and Joe is a nine."

* * *

The next day, Margaret woke up sweating. At first she didn't think anything of it since both Lipton and Compton were wrapped themselves around her, almost suffocating her. _If only I knew this before the war, I could have found myself a nice man just by letting him warm his toes,_ she smirked to herself.

She untangled herself from them and stood. Dizzy for a moment, she placed her right hand down to steady herself when she noticed the pain.

Margaret walked into the forest until she could be alone. Taking off her jacket, she saw the tiny gash across the top of her arm. She could barely see it, it was so small, but it throbbed in pain. She put her jacket back on and walked to see if she could scrounge some coffee. _Hell if I'm going to waste a bandage on a scratch._

* * *

"Damn, I think I'm actually getting a little too warm," muttered Martin, untangling himself from Margaret's left side. He peeked outside the foxhole, the morning was clear and sunny. A first for their time in Bastogne.

"You're a filthy liar, Johnny," groaned Luz. He must have rolled from Margaret during the night, his upper body freezing. He turned to see her still dead asleep. Yawning, he moved to burrow his head again into her neck. When his forehead touched her skin, he pulled back instantly.

Luz took off his glove and placed his hand on her exposed neck. "Jesus, Johnny, she's burning up!"

Martin rolled his eyes, still staring out the foxhole and towards the enemy's side. "Luz, it's Maggie. She always feels like that."

Luz shook his head violently. "No, really, something isn't right." He moved his hand to her forehead. Her skin was clammy and searing.

He shook her shoulder. "Mags? Wake up, doll." She moaned softly, but didn't wake.

Martin's eyes grew wide. "Medic!"

* * *

Winters and Nixon were debriefing each other when they saw Roe run by them. In the distance, they heard someone scream for a medic. It was coming from Easy company.

They took off after them. "Zielinski! Call for a jeep! Easy company!" Nixon yelled.

Winters and Nixon stopped short when they caught up to Roe. He was already in the foxhole, Liebgott and Luz standing outside it, their faces terrified.

Roe crouched next to Margaret. "Maggie, it's Eugene. Where does it hurt, _cherie_?"

Margaret moaned softly, her eyes closed. "Eugene, I'm sorry," she whispered. Her lips were white.

Roe stroked her hair then checked her pulse. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart. You're going to be just fine." He paused. "Her heart is racing," he said to himself. "And her temperature is sky high." He looked up to Winters and Nixon. "Is the jeep coming? She needs to go to the aid station immediately."

Nixon nodded, his face grave. "Yeah, it's on its way." Winters remained silent, his eyes not leaving Margaret. His face was whiter than usual.

The jeep arrived. Roe easily swept Margaret into his arms without another word and placed her on the stretcher there. He felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Eugene." He looked down to see her eyes open blearily. He bent down to hear her whisper. "My right arm. The shoulder."

Roe straightened and turned to her right side. Barely noticeable, he saw a small tear in her jacket and a trace of blood. Gently ripping the fabric, he revealed a swollen mess of puss and dried blood underneath.

Roe inhaled sharply. "We are going to talk about this later. When you are better, we are going to have an understanding," he growled.

Margaret smiled softly to him. He climbed into the jeep. As they drove away, she noticed Winters and Nixon standing there. She waved feebly, and then they were out of sight.

* * *

Margaret woke slowly, her eyes not open just yet. She heard murmurings, but her ears felt like they had cotton in them. Eventually, she could make out the soothing voice of Roe.

".. so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, or to be loved as to love with all my heart, with all my heart. Oh Lord, grant that I shall never seek... " he repeated this prayer over and over, staring at his hands.

Margaret shifted slightly and he quickly turned his eyes to her. She saw his face light up, and he pressed a hand to her forehead. Contented, he took her hand. But then his face darkened.

Margaret smiled at him, trying to make her eyes as wide and innocent as possible. "Eugene, I just…" His look silenced her. "I'm sorry."

Roe remained quiet for awhile, then his eyes softened. "You can't do that again, Maggie. Not to me. And not to everyone else."

Margaret sighed. "It was just a little cut, I didn't think it would get infected. I didn't want anyone to worry."

"Yeah well, they're worried now, ain't they?" He growled, his eyes flashing again. "I've been ordered to return with progress reports every hour of every day because every single man is so goddamned worried about you."

Margaret felt tears come to her eyes. "Every day? But that's ridiculous. How long have I been here?"

"Three days." Margaret gasped. Roe nodded, his chin up in anger. "So you can never pull something like this again. Your men can't take it." She nodded quietly.

Roe's eyes were still hard and angry, until a pretty nurse stopped over. "Oh, you're awake, Sergeant, I'm happy to see. You gave us quite a scare."

Margaret smiled back to her, but watched Roe from the corner of her eye. He immediately became quiet and his eyes grew wide with attention to the nurse. Margaret smirked slightly before hiding it.

"You must be Renee," Margaret said, holding out her hand. Renee looked quickly to Roe before blushing a bit and shaking her hand.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you, Sergeant." Her accent caused her voice to cascade beautifully in waves. Her blue eyes were vibrant. "You're lucky you came in when you did. We just received an airdrop and you desperately needed the penicillin."

Margaret smiled. "Please call me Maggie. Eugene has always spoken so highly of you." She watched them both blush crimson. "Your work here is critical to the fight."

Renee looked down, blush still deep on her cheeks. She excused herself and left to check on another patient.

Margaret looked to Roe, a mischievous smile crossing her face. "She's lovely, Eugene."

He shook his head at her. "You're lucky you're cute, Margaret Henry," he said. He stood, putting on his jacket. "I need to go tell Captain Winters you're awake." He turned to her, an evil glint in his own eye. "Who do you think requested the hourly report?"

Margaret sat stunned, watching him leave. Renee passed by her cot again. "Renee?" She stopped. Margaret took her hand. "I just want to thank you again. And also thank you for helping Eugene."

Renee's eyes became confused. "Help Eugene? He hasn't been sick or injured."

Margaret smiled. "No, not sick or injured, but he has been haunted by the war. More so than many of us. He faces so much and he has to be so strong when the rest of us are allowed to sometimes be weak. Whenever he comes back from seeing you, he gains another piece of himself back. So thank you."

Renee blushed crimson again, but smiled softly. "He is a good man."

Margaret nodded, agreeing. "Yes, he is." Short pause. "Quite handsome too, don't you think?" Her eyes twinkled.

Renee's cheeks blushed deeper.


	18. Melt You Away

The clear skies in Bastogne meant that more supplies could arrive and that airstrikes could begin - on both sides.

Margaret ducked in a foxhole with Malarkey, waiting out the third airstrike from the Germans that day. "I think I prefer the fog," yelled Malarkey to her, cringing as dirt blew into their eyes. Margaret nodded, sighing deeply. A moment later, and it was quiet.

A few hours later, she was making her rounds to check on everyone. In the far back, she spotted Eugene alone in a half dug hole. She smiled widely before flopping down next to him.

"You're back early," she said, nudging him in the ribs. Roe didn't answer. Concerned, Margaret took his chin in her hand and turned his face to her. "Eugene?"

Roe slowly dragged his eyes to her, and she gasped. The pain in them hit her like a truck. She took his hand in hers; it was trembling. "Eugene, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Speak to me!"

Roe just shook his head. She waited impatiently, searching his eyes. "Eugene, you're scaring me." She watched as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled something blue out.

Margaret stared at it, her skin covered in gooseflesh. The fabric looked vaguely familiar. "What is that?"

Still he couldn't speak, just unfolded it. She recognized it as a nurse's cap. Margaret gasped sharply. "Eugene...no, it's not…" Roe just nodded, his eyes staring at the fabric, twisting it in his hands.

Tears filled Margaret's eyes. "Renee?" He only nodded again.

Sighing deeply, Margaret laid her head on his shoulder, murmuring to him words of comfort. She watched tears fall into the cold dirt below them, disappearing as quickly as they appeared.

* * *

After General Patton's arrival, although unnecessary, Easy company was free to move from Bastogne. The soldiers were eager to leave, if only to be able to walk and get warm. They marched onto the town of Foy towards an eventual assault on the German-occupied town.

Although expecting full resistance, the journey to Foy was a quiet one. The only drama was a sad one - Hoobler was killed by his own weapon. After the accident, Easy became unusually quiet.

Margaret was walking with Lipton around the camp, checking on the men, trying to cheer them the best they could, and keeping the conversations going. The most popular topic - Lieutenant Dike - was daily entertainment. Whether Luz practiced his best impression or if the guys just took jabs at their CO, Lipton and Margaret didn't care. The men's attitudes were looking up. Lipton was great at keeping the morale up. He was the best 1st sergeant Easy could ask for - if only their 1st Lieutenant could be called the same.

Digging the foxholes outside Foy was a lot more difficult. The air somehow was colder here, although only a short distance from Bastogne. The ground was hard and impenetrable. It took the soldiers a long time before they were finished.

One day, Margaret was standing to the side as a private from headquarters was filming the men. Colonel Sink called the stunt a morale booster for the folks back home - whatever that meant. He kindly took Margaret aside when he arrived, to tell her that she couldn't be seen on camera.

She nodded to him. "I understand, sir. It's quite all right."

Sink dropped a hand on her shoulder. "You are one hell of a soldier, Sergeant Henry. I couldn't be prouder. One day soon the Army will wake up and see the opportunity they missed by not filming history in the making. And when that day comes, I know I can count on you to give them hell."

Margaret grinned. "Definitely, sir." She saluted him. He returned the salute with a small smile and then walked away.

She started to walk, quickly joined by Luz. He threw an arm around her shoulders. "Mags, the Army ain't filming you because you're a lady soldier. They ain't filming you because your gorgeous face would cause riots back home. Men would be enlisting left and right and God knows we don't need any more replacements."

She grinned at him and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I knew I loved you for a reason, George Luz."

"Yeah, my sweet ass."

* * *

A few nights later, the air only turned colder. Most of the soldiers attempted to melt the cold away with hot broth and cigarettes in their foxholes. Roe and Nixon, on the other hand, were under the CO canopy, arguing with the battalion commander.

Roe shook his head again, exasperated at the situation. "If you don't take care of yourself tonight, sir, I'm afraid tomorrow you may find yourself at the aid station with pneumonia."

Winters sighed, trying unsuccessfully to stop his body from shaking. "I'm fine, Doc. We're all cold," he chattered.

Winters' aid, Silinsky, found him attempting to shave one morning with ice water. His hand was shaking so hard, he couldn't lift the brush to his face. After two days of watching the Captain suffer silently, Silinsky finally told Nixon of what had happened. Nixon, furious, ordered Silinsky away to find enough bacon sandwiches for the entire battalion, and not to return until he did. _Should keep him away for awhile_ , he thought.

Nixon rolled his eyes at Winters' retort. "Yeah, we are all cold, Dick, but this is something else entirely. I can practically see through your skin, it's so translucent. Your nose is purple, and we both know that it isn't from drinking. And quit giving away your jacket!"

Roe's frustration was quickly turning to anger. "Sir, permission to speak plainly." Roe didn't wait for permission. "If you don't come with me to Bastogne for a warm bed and meal, I will have to take drastic measures."

Winters lifted his eyebrows, a smile on his face. "Are you threatening me, Doc?"

Roe didn't deny it, his eyes dangerous. "If you'd like to take it that way, sir, so be it. Whatever gets you to do as I say."

The three men were silent, waiting each other out. Finally, Winters spoke, "I'm fine, Eugene. I just need some rest, and I'm sure I'll be better in the morning. I haven't slept for the past few days."

"Maybe because you shake yourself out of the foxhole," retorted Nixon.

Roe and Nixon glowered at him. Roe left in a huff without being dismissed. Winters shrugged to Nixon, but his friend only shook his head. He followed Roe.

"Doc!" he called. Roe stopped, turning to him, "Doc, what can we do?"

Roe shook his head, his lips pursed. "I don't know, Captain. The man needs to get warm. I'm not only afraid of sickness but his limbs as well."

Nixon started, his eyes bright. He reached over a put a hand on Roe's shoulder. "I have a terrible idea."

* * *

Winters laid chattering in his foxhole, both his and Nixon's blanket thrown over his body. He was curled on his side, tucking his legs up into his chest in a feeble attempt to get warmer. He heard the flap open above him.

"Nix, tell me you've brought some coffee," he mumbled through his frozen lips.

"Next best thing."

Winters looked up quickly, seeing Margaret standing there with Roe and Nixon behind her. "Sergeant, what are you doing here?" She didn't reply. She moved to the edge of the hole and sat down. He looked desperately over at Nixon. "Nix? I don't understand." Nixon and Roe remained silent, but they both shrugged. They clearly communicated, _You brought this on._

Margaret gave him a stern look. "Captain Nixon and Eugene have told me that you don't like taking orders and refuse to take care of yourself."

Winters his mouth dropped open and he gaped at her, and then to the men. She continued before he could speak. "I can understand that, as Eugene knows from experience, but you don't have a choice anymore, sir. Eugene spoke to you about drastic measures. So here I am."

Winters sputtered, still gaping. "You're the drastic measure?" She shrugged and smiled. He turned to his traitorous friend. "Nixon?"

Nixon smiled sadly, shrugging. "You left me no choice, Dick. I can't see you die of stupidity."

Winters sputtered again, but then began coughing. "I...I'm going to…"

Margaret shushed him with a dangerous look. "Captain?" she said in a thunderous tone. He looked at her, his eyes wide. "Shut up." With that, Nixon and Roe chuckled. As she hopped down into the foxhole, they closed the flap against the cold air and left.

Winters watched her crawl towards him until she was sitting next to him. "Margaret, what are you doing here? Nixon never should have ordered you here. This is wrong, I'm so sorry…"

She held up a hand, shushing him again. He could feel the warmth of her nearby body beginning to saturate through the blankets. "First, Nix didn't order me here. Eugene explained the situation to me. He and Nix were desperate. I chose to be here."

She lifted the blankets for a moment before slinking underneath with him. "Second, do you know what the men call me these days? Well, besides 'sweet cheeks'?" She grinned to him, and he couldn't help but grin back

"I hope it's something more appropriate than 'sweet cheeks.'"

Margaret laughed, the sound making his heart thump. They leaned on the wall together, side by side. She placed her hand on his cheek, frowning slightly at how cold she found it. "Hardly. They call me their 'sultry sister.' And not because of my 'womanly ways,' or so Bull puts it, but because I'm the only one who can stand a little cold weather."

Winters chuckled, the warmth of her hand saturating his face. "I think it's fair to say this is a bit more than 'a little cold weather.'" Margaret shrugged, grinning again. Moving her hand to the back of his head, she guided him to lean closer to her. His eyes widened, but she just nodded reassuringly.

Margaret twisted their bodies so that they laid down on the hard ground. With her back against the earth floor, she gently helped him stretch down against her and placed his head on the top of her chest, his face in the crook of she neck. His ear and nose were ice. Tucking his stray arms around her, she heard him sigh.

"I've never had so many men fight over me before. And just to warm their hands or nose. If they didn't whine so much, I'd think it was charming," she murmured. Even her breath on top of his head was hot.

Finally, she weaved his legs between hers before draping the blankets on top of them and wrapping her arms around him. She could practically feel the cold seeping from him. Although booted, his feet snuggled against her, subconsciously.

"I highly doubt that," Winters murmured, listening to her heart beat beneath his ear.

"You doubt that they whine? Tomorrow you have a formal invitation to share Luz's foxhole."

Winters chuckled against her. Her hands rubbed his back. "No," he replied sleepily. "I doubt that you have never had so many men fight over you before."

He felt her smile. "It's true." She placed a hand in his hair, brushing it from his forehead. She looked down to see him eyes closed. "Did I ever tell you about the time I fell through the ice?" She snuck her scarf under her head.

Winters shook his head slightly. Margaret continued, "I was nine or so, and I was playing with my best friend David on the frozen lake near my house. Or at least we thought it was frozen. Luckily for me, it wasn't that deep."

She could feel his breathing deepen. She absently brushed her lips on his forehead. "Well, David shrieked like a little girl when I fell in. But he was able to pull me out and take me home. My father found me on the couch, shivering like a leaf." Her eyes grew moist at the memory. "He changed me into one of his big flannel shirts and wool socks that went up to my knees. That night, he taught me how to make my first fire so that I would never be cold again."

She looked down at him and counted his ginger eyelashes. She knew then that she loved this man. Truly loved him. Being with him again, intimately like this, hurt her, but it was a good hurt. Knowing that she was helping him somehow made her stronger. _And a stronger Maggie is a force to be reckoned with_ , she thought. _Watch out krauts._

* * *

The next morning Margaret awoke to bright sunshine, momentarily confused why her arms were pinned to her side. Then she felt his cool breath on her neck. Craning her head, she saw Winters fast asleep behind her.

As much as she'd like to stay in her current position, she knew it was impossible. Margaret tried to pry his arm from around her, but it was deadlocked. Next, she tried to shimmy down and out. Right before she was about to duck under his elbow, he stirred awake.

Winters blinked sleepily. "Margaret?"

 _Oh shit_ , she thought. _Does he not remember?_

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Are you leaving?" She sighed with relief, twisting to face him, scooting back up.

"Yeah, I figured it was probably a good idea," she murmured. He nodded, reading her eyes. "But I need to be able to sit up, first."

Winters looked down at his arm, heavy across her still. He grinned, sheepishly and removed it. "Sorry, I didn't realize."

She sat up, gathering her wayward hair into a bun. He sat up next to her, leaning his arms on his knees. "If anyone should apologize it should be…" she paused, thinking.

"Nixon," they said together, laughing.

Winters watched her for awhile until she was satisfied enough that she looked presentable. "Margaret, I…" He paused, unsure how to move forward. He looked into her eyes. "Thank you."

She smiled. She leaned over and grazed her lips on his forehead. He closed his eyes, trying to memorize the feeling. Margaret smiled sadly at him again, and moved to sit up on her heels.

Her warmth was retreating his body rapidly. She saw him shudder. Tutting, she reached over and wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders. "Sergeant's orders." She smiled, and then left the foxhole.


	19. Broken

**Reading your reviews about Margaret and Dick make my day! I hope you'll continue their journey with me.**

* * *

The first attack lasted for it seemed like only a few seconds. Luz and Margaret were one moment adding branches around a new foxhole and then the next they were trapped inside it, a tree falling across the opening.

"George," Margaret croaked. "Still alive?"

Luz shook his head violently, trying to rid his hair of pine needles. "Yep," he replied, dryly. "Still alive."

They tried to push the tree aside, but they couldn't manage it on their own. Calling for help, Lipton arrived shortly, and they maneuvered the trunk enough so that they could squeeze out.

"Think we got enough cover, Lip?" she quipped, dusting her jacket of snow.

Lipton smiled but it came to look more like a grimace. "Go find another foxhole. Both of you." He then ran to check on everyone else.

Luz hooked his arm around her neck as they walked. The danger of the attack had already faded from their minds. "Is that the best they got?" she said with a sneer.

Luz puffed on a cigarette, looking at her appreciatively. "Oh look at Mrs. Tough Guy here. Yo, Malark," he said to Malarkey and pointing to her. "Have you met Mrs. Tough Guy?" Margaret pinched him hard and he yelped.

They were just about at an empty foxhole when they heard the shot: "Incoming!" They both then tried to dive for cover, but just as they were about to move, a mortar hit the empty foxhole in front of them, blowing them backward.

All the air left her lungs with a whoosh. Her ears rang, but she could see. Next to her, Luz also looked up, unhurt. They nodded to each other before trying to search for another cover.

Up ahead, they saw Muck and Penkala waving to them. Mortar after mortar struck around them, causing them to belly crawl very slowly towards where their friends stood. Margaret swore she could feel the air of passing mortars against her ears.

Just as they were about close enough to jump into their foxhole with Muck and Penkala, another blast stopped them, rolling them back. Another moment and another mortar, and Muck and Penkala disappeared. They were hit directly.

Margaret and Luz couldn't believe their eyes at first, but after looking at each other for confirmation, they knew it was true. With nothing else to do, they found another foxhole and dived in.

What seemed to be hours later, but was in actuality only minutes, the strike ended. Just when they thought they were safe, a shell hit by their feet. Somehow, it was a dud.

Margaret wasn't a religious person, but she thanked God in that moment. She promised that if she got out of this hell hole alive, she would do everything in her power to be a peaceful and good person until the end of her days.

Luz handed her a lit cigarette, his hands shaking. "I don't smoke, George."

He nodded as they both stared at the steaming shell. "I know." She shrugged and took a drag anyway. She coughed harshly, but the action felt good. It was something to do besides think about their close calls.

When they were finally able to stand without trembling too much, they began to walk towards the others. Margaret took her hand in his. He looked down at their hands, a confused but humored expression on his face. "Do we do that?" he asked, chewing on his cigarette.

Margaret squeezed his hand. "We do now." They heard moaning ahead and they hurried over. Margaret and Luz stopped dead. Guarnere and Toye were each being treated by Roe, the snow around them was blood red. Toye's right leg was missing completely, as well as most of Guarnere's.

A breath later, Margaret ran to Guarnere, who was being lifted into the jeep first. "Bill, you're going to be OK," she murmured, taking his hand.

Guarnere grunted in pain but smirked. "I know I will, doll. I'm going home. And I'm beating Joe there, you hear that Joe?" Toye groaned, ignoring the exchange. Guarnere looked back at Margaret. "You take care of yourself, sweetheart. I won't be able to give you hell if you're dead."

Margaret smiled, tears in her eyes. The jeep started to pull away, and their hands broke apart. She turned to Toye, still on the ground.

"Did I hear right? You're going home, Joe? Best news I heard all day."

He grunted, but managed a smile. "I'll send you a postcard." Another jeep arrived and Toye was strapped in. Margaret brushed some dirt from his face before kissing his cheek. He gave her a wink, even through the pain. "Stay out of trouble, kid." She winked back and he was gone.

Margaret took a deep breath before turning from the scene. She saw Luz hadn't moved from his spot. She walked up to him, taking his hands in hers. "George? Are you alright?"

Luz didn't answer, his eyes were focused on the red snow. The cigarette in his mouth had turned to almost all ash. She removed it from his lips and threw it on the ground. "George, say something."

Luz still didn't speak. He seemed to be in shock after seeing four men hit, two dead and two critically injured, within minutes. All friends of his. Normally he used his humor to help get himself and others through tough situations. He couldn't find anything funny about today.

"George Luz, you answer me right now. Do you hear me?" Margaret demanded. She looked into his glassy eyes and sighed. Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

Luz startled. She pulled away from him as he touched his lips with his hand, looking at her as if he'd never seen her before. He shook his head as though to clear it. "Do we do that?" He asked, his humor returning.

She grinned, looping his arm through hers. "Hell no."

* * *

Luz wasn't the only one affected by that day. Compton had hit his breaking point. Each soldier had one. Margaret had felt herself get close to the edge before, but she was able to turn it around with the help of Luz and Roe for the most part.

Compton's best friends had been torn apart in front of his eyes. No one thought less of him for breaking at that moment. He was a true soldier and a true man. Although they didn't want to see him go, they understood.

The one man everyone took extra care to cheer up was Malarkey. He also lost his best friends today. Without Muck and Penkala, he fell into a deep depression. Lipton made it his personal goal to make sure Malarkey didn't hit that breaking point yet.

That day seemed to change Lipton in other ways. He did something none of us dared - he officially complained to Winters about the incompetence of Dike.

"He just told Winters that Dike was a dud?" asked Liebgott.

"More like a train wreck," replied Luz, chain smoking once again. He offered it to Margaret, but she grimaced and shook her head.

She leaned her elbows onto her knees before replying. "That took a lots of balls for Lip to do that. He knows Winters can't do anything about Dike, but he reported it anyway. He knew the Captain needed to know." They all nodded in agreement. Lipton was a good man and an even better leader.

* * *

As the days went on, the battalion cleared the forest around the town of Foy. All that was left was to take the town itself. For hours a day, Winters and Nixon would watch the enemy across the way, plotting their next moves.

Winters felt uneasy about allowing Dike to take charge of Easy's attack, but he knew nothing could be done. Dike was here for purely political purposes, and as much as Winters hated that politics were getting in the way, he couldn't go against them. Dike was to stay unless something went south.

 _Like getting men killed,_ Winters thought grimly. He hadn't forgotten what Lipton told him and wasn't likely to.

* * *

The next day was the scheduled attack on Foy. Winters awoke with a rock of dread in his stomach unrelated to combat. He could deal with the hardships of battle. What he couldn't swallow was his distrust in Dike.

The attack had a multi-pronged approach. Dike's first step in the mission was rather simple - cross the field with his platoon as quickly as possible. There wasn't enough cover, so they needed to run. The other platoons and companies would support with covering fire.

Margaret saw Dike nod at the orders. As soon as Winters walked from him, she saw him yawn. _You've got to be shitting me_ , she thought. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Luz also witnessed the exchange. His face was set grimly.

Easy lined up on the edge of the forest, waiting for the signal from Winters. She caught his eye a moment, and he nodded to her. She nodded back, ready. His eyes traveled to the rest of the men, praying for them.

"Go!"

The platoons started to run. Margaret was with Luz, and both followed their platoon up the middle. Bullets started whizzing by them immediately, the field a wide canvas for disaster.

Faster than most, Margaret arrived at one of the tall haystacks near the edge of town. She turned to look back over her shoulder, expecting to see Luz. No one was behind her. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Waves of noise rushed past her ears, as she, as if in slow motion, turned completely around, her neck straining to find her friend.

Finally spotting Luz, her relief was short-lived. He was stuck in the middle of the field, wide open to gunfire, with a screaming Dike tugging on his jacket. Luz's eyes were livid, but she could also see the fear in them.

Margaret didn't hesitate. She ran to them.


	20. The Mad Dog

"Move forward!" screamed Winters. His voice was breaking from shouting so much. He couldn't believe his eyes. Dike stopped in the middle of the field, his men open to the Germans like a turkey shoot.

Man after man went down. Winters lost count of how many fell. One platoon on the left flank finally found some shelter, but those in the middle were scattered. Dike stood still, his hand grasped around Luz's jacket.

He watched as Margaret ran to them, bullets landing inches from her into the snow. "Jesus Christ," he swore. She grabbed them both by the lapels and dragged them towards a tall haystack where she just had come from. Dike resisted at first, but finally followed.

He and the rest of the battalion could only watch as Dike screamed into Luz's radio, panic evident on his face. A moment later, Lieutenant Foley arrived from the cover of his platoon. "Get Dike on the radio. Now!" Winters ordered.

* * *

Luz landed against the haystack next to Margaret, both panting. Their eyes met and they both nodded. Another moment to breathe, and they both sat up and turned to Dike.

Luz reached for his radio as it buzzed. Lipton arrived, and he, Margaret and Foley circled around around Dike. "Lieutenant, what are your orders?" she asked, shouting over the sound of machine guns.

Dike didn't respond. He was frozen on the ground. Luz gestured to him with his radio phone. "Captain Winters for you, sir. He needs to speak you with urgently."

Dike still didn't respond. Margaret's patience snapped. "We need you to make a decision, sir! We are sitting ducks out here!"

Lipton followed her lead. "Sir, first platoon is waiting for us. We can't leave them!"

Luz tried pushing the phone into Dike's hand. "Captain Winters, sir. He orders you to talk to him, now!"

Dike started mumbling, but they couldn't hear him. Finally he turned to Foley. "Lieutenant, take your men and attack them from the rear."

They looked at him in astonishment. Those orders would get them all killed instantly. Foley tried to reason with him but Dike was firm, confident in his decision. When he turned back to the rest of them, they expected additional orders, but he fell silent again, lost.

Lipton and Luz tried to help Foley and his platoon with their orders from Dike. Lipton shouted what he saw to the team through the radio, pinpointing a sniper in a broken building. The attempt helped, but the men were still trapped.

Margaret stood, her anger with the situation about to erupt. With her hands clenched into fists, she felt she could hurt Dike. Actually hurt an unarmed and pathetic man. His weakness started a fire inside her.

Before she could take a step forward, Lieutenant Spiers of Dog company fell onto his knees into the snow next to her and looked straight at Dike. "I'm taking over," he said calmly.

Margaret could have kissed him, her previous sour feelings towards the man pushed aside. She had heard stories of his leadership and bravery from her correspondence with Helen. Now she got to see it in action.

Spiers turned to Lipton. "First Sergeant Lipton, update me," he ordered.

Lipton nodded, explaining the situation to him. Spiers understood immediately. "Forget going around back. I want mortars on that house until the sniper is gone. Everyone else, follow me." He stood and ran before even looking to see if the enemy was targeting him or if they followed him.

Lipton ran in the other direction to relay the messages to 1st platoon. Margaret and Luz looked at each other and muttered together, "Thank God."

They followed Spiers to the back of a building. Margaret peered around the corner, trying to make sense of the chaos in the town. A ricochet bounced off the ground and sliced past her cheek. She grabbed her face, feeling blood, but she ignored it.

She turned back to Spiers, who sat on his haunches next to her. Luz's eyes widened at the blood on her face. "I company is across the square. If we don't connect with them soon, we may lose them, sir."

Spiers nodded. "You're right. We can't let that happen. Stay here." He stood and immediately ran into the square towards the other side of town.

Margaret and Luz watched him go, thunderstruck. "What the fuck," they muttered together.

They watched him dodge the German fire. The krauts ran around him in confusion. "This is scary, Luz," she added.

Luz nodded next to her. "He must be out of his mind."

Margaret turned to look at him, a grin on her face. "I meant us, George. We are starting to think alike."

Luz grinned back. "That is scary. For me." She smacked him as they watched Spiers reach I company. A few moments later, he leapt from their fallback position and started to run back towards Margaret and Luz.

He arrived unscathed. Margaret and Luz shook their heads in disbelief, but they smiled broadly. Spiers may be a mad man, but his bravery and courage were exactly what Easy needed at that moment.

* * *

 _No rest for the wicked_ , was the thought of every Easy soldier. After conquering Foy, the troopers thought they'd be sent to France to recuperate. Instead, they overtook two more towns within days of each other.

Finally, they were given a special treat. A church in town still stood within the ruins and Easy was able to sleep indoors for the first time in over a month. Coupled along with a hot meal and a singing choir, the soldiers believed they had found heaven.

Margaret was sitting in a pew near a corner, waiting for Luz to return with his second plate of food. A shadow fell across her and she looked up to see Spiers standing in front of her.

He smirked at her. "You did good work today, Sergeant."

Margaret narrowed her eyes before standing up. His eyes were level with hers. She tried to hold her tongue, but her mouth opened on its own. "Was there any doubt, Lieutenant?"

Spiers' smirk deepened. "Honestly, I did doubt the capabilities of a woman in the field. I believed they lacked the stomach and stamina for war." He paused, finding the angry fire in her eyes amusing. "But then I met Sergeant Donovan. It took awhile, but she made it clear that once I got my head out of my ass, I'd see that she was the best damn soldier Dog company had. Her words, not mine, of course."

Margaret smiled at that, beyond proud of her friend. Spiers continued. "She was also right. Helen is my best soldier. Or was."

Margaret felt her stomach drop, but her eyes stayed straight into his. He smirked again. "Don't worry, she's fine. I'm being transferred to lead Easy."

Margaret smiled sweetly back to him after her stomach returned to its original position. "I never had any doubt in Sergeant Donovan, sir."

Spiers nodded. "I expect the same from you, Margaret. But I can already see you won't let me down." She nodded back. "It's a shame you haven't had a leader for awhile."

"Not true, sir," she replied instantly. "Sergeant Lipton has been our leader. We would be lost without him."

Spiers nodded again, thoughtful. "As you were, Sergeant." And he walked away.

She sat down again, a small smile on her face. Luz sat down next to her, his eyes wide in wonder. "He didn't offer you a smoke, did he, Mags?" He handed her another roll as he watched Spiers take Lipton aside.

Margaret laughed quietly, trying not to disturb the beautiful music of the choir. "I don't smoke, Luz. Anyway, the Lieutenant was just discussing with me about the past few days. He's going to be Easy's new CO."

Luz nodded. "I'm glad. I mean, the man scares the bejeezus out of me, but I'm glad. We would be dead without him."

They sat quietly awhile as Luz sopped his bread in gravy. "He didn't hit on you, did he?" he asked suddenly.

"What? No!" she retorted, shoving his arm. Gravy sloshed onto his hand.

"Alright! Alright!" he said, holding out his dry hand. "Cause if he did, I'd have to tell him that job was taken." He paused. "And I really don't want to tell him that. The man is a beast."

Margaret laughed loudly this time, she couldn't help it. "It seems like every man in Easy took that job the day I arrived to your barracks, George."

Luz gave her a hurt look. "That's absolutely not true. We have several gentlemen in our company." He paused. "Maybe a handful." Another pause. "OK, a few." She laughed again, nudging her side to his.

He held up a fist and started to count fingers. "Doc would never hit on you. He is the epitome of a gentleman."

She couldn't stop giggling. "That's very true. Eugene has those wonderful southern manners."

Luz continued with a second finger. "And Popeye, come on, Popeye would never make a pass. Probably because he's never been with a woman, but that's besides the point."

Margaret tried stuffing her hands on her mouth. Her sides ached with the laughter. She hadn't felt this carefree in weeks.

Luz grinned and held out his thumb. He was thrilled to make someone laugh again, especially his best friend. "Oh, and Captain Winters wouldn't make a move." She abruptly stopped laughing. "Can you just picture him getting sweet on a woman?"

"'Hey pretty lady, listen up,'" Luz said, mimicking Winters' voice and tone. "'I wanted to ask if you'd like to get a drink with me, but seeing as I don't touch the stuff, well, I just wanted to say, God bless you."

Luz paused, waiting for the burst of laughter from her, but seeing instead the humor leave her face. "What is it, Mags?" He leaned in close and whispered, "Was it the beans?"

"Gross, George," she said, her nose wrinkling.

"Then what?"

"It's nothing. It's just...just that your theory doesn't work on Winters anyhow. He's not a part of Easy anymore," she replied tentatively.

He watched her cross her arms over her chest, close her eyes, and lean her head against his shoulder. One moment he had her roaring with laughter, and the next she suddenly decided to take a nap.

Luz leaned his cheek against the top of her hair, thoughtful, trying to pinpoint the transition.

As he started to drift off to sleep, he realized that her change in demeanor came when he mentioned Winters. Margaret was never good at hiding her feelings. The entire company found out pretty quickly that she couldn't lie worth a damn. So why did she get so quiet when she mentioned Winters hitting on her?

 _Unless…_

Luz's eyes flew open. He looked down at her on his shoulder, her face innocent in sleep. _It can't be_ , he thought.

At that moment, the captain in question walked into the church. He quickly surveyed the area, accounting for his soldiers. When he saw Margaret asleep on Luz, he paused briefly, but long enough to make Luz suspicious.

 _If he so much as touched her,_ thought Luz angrily. He watched the captain walk to Spiers and Lipton, shaking their hands.

Luz leaned his cheek back against her hair and closed his eyes. _Tomorrow_ , he thought. _I'll ask her tomorrow. Her eyes won't lie to me._


	21. Sheared Secrets

Luz didn't ask Margaret tomorrow, or the next day. He realized this was a delicate topic, something he wasn't savvy in. He watched her though, but he could see no sign of anything out of the ordinary. She still checked on all the guys daily, helping warm hands when she could. She laughed easily, something he always loved about her. She was Margaret.

Easy made their way to Haguenau, France. Although the city was secure, the stray mortar struck around them every now and then. The enemy was only over the river. But Haguenau felt like a paradise vacation compared to the woods of Belgium. They were able to stay in houses, in actual beds with real sheets. They had a hot meal everyday, sometimes multiple times a day.

The extreme change in living situation had some other extreme effects. Lipton, now a lieutenant, had come down with a pneumonia, unable to perform his new duties. After months outside in the frozen tundra, now the poor man gets ill. The sickness aggravated him greatly. He attempted to sneak into meetings, which only aggravated Spiers. And no one wanted to piss off that man.

The soldiers started to enjoy other simple pleasures - at least most of them did. Four men had to force Malarkey into the showers after he refused daily to clean himself. His depression had some strange side effects. For the most part though, the change was a huge welcome.

* * *

Margaret sat in her bunk, Roe sitting in a chair across from her, reading a small book. Luz laid his head in her lap, and she stroked his hair absently.

Her fellow soldiers liked to visit her not only for her company, but because she had a small room all to herself. Sometimes being the only female soldier had its perks.

"Luz, you need a haircut," she murmured, brushing his long and choppy locks from his face.

With his eyes closed, he shrugged sleepily. "Whatever you say, Mags."

Margaret grinned at Roe. "I love when he says that. Can I borrow your scissors, Eugene?"

Luz sat up. "What? Now?"

Margaret stood, and took the shears Roe offered her. She smiled brilliantly at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

Roe stood. "I can't witness this nightmare." He left without another word.

Luz followed her as she pulled the chair Roe vacated to the middle of the room. He craned his neck as she searched for a towel. "Nightmare? What is he talking about, Mags?"

She pulled out a clean towel triumphantly and shrugged. "Oh, I just nicked Bill once when I cut his hair in Holland. Eugene is exaggerating."

Luz raised his eyebrows. "Doc does not exaggerate. Besides, how did he find out about it?"

Margaret rolled her eyes. "He insisted on giving Bill a few stitches. Quite unnecessary in my opinion."

Luz's eyes grew wide and he stood. He headed straight for the door. She caught him by the shoulders. "Come on, George! It wasn't that bad. And he has short hair. I just want to give you a trim." Luz mock contemplated before pushing forward towards the door again.

Margaret pushed back, digging her heels in. "Don't you want to look handsome for some pretty French girl?"

He pushed harder. _When did she get so strong?_ "I'm already handsome!"

Margaret let go abruptly and he fell forward. "OK, fine."

Luz didn't have much relationship experience with women; most of his time with them had been in bed. But he knew enough that when a woman said "fine," it was anything but. He sighed and flopped into the chair.

She giggled happily, draping the towel over his shoulders. "You're lucky you're cute," he grumbled.

She giggled again. "I've been hearing that a lot lately."

* * *

Over the next hour, Margaret worked on Luz. She gently wet his hair with warmed water before starting the meticulously process of trimming his dark hair.

Luz couldn't help but close his eyes when she towel dried his hair. Her fingers massaged his scalp and he moaned softly. She brushed his hair back with her comb, and he moaned again.

"Quit it, George. Someone is going to walk by and think you're getting some," she scolded.

He frowned. "But that was the plan." She swatted him.

Luz saw the opportunity to ask her about Winters. He'd been waiting for the perfect moment, but they were always surrounded or busy. Or he just didn't have the guts to open this particular can of worms. But he couldn't ignore the perfect moment. Now he just didn't know how to begin.

"Mags?"

She murmured back, "Yes?"

He opened his eyes to see her concentrating completely on her task. She had an adorable determined look on her face as she snipped his hair.

"Remember when I was joking about how I get to be the guy that hits on you? Not Spiers?" She nodded, but continued to cut.

He cleared his throat. A moment before he was about to ask her another question, he remembered the scissors to his hair. He reached up and gently grasped her wrist, lowering her hand. She looked down at him curiously. "George, I'm not even half done. Don't back out on me now."

Luz shook his head, shushing her. "Not that." He paused. "When I mentioned about the other guys not being able to hit on you like me, because, well, who can sweep you off your feet like old Georgie?" She smiled, rolling her eyes. "You had a strange reaction when I said Captain Winters' name."

The smile fell from her face. She looked away from him before focusing on his hair again. He heard the scissors snip a few more strands. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Luz was quiet for a long time as she worked. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Maggie, did he hurt you?"

"What?" she yelled, and at the same moment, the edge of the scissors cut a huge chunk from the top of his head.

Yowling, Luz jumped up, feeling the raw skin. Margaret put her hands to her mouth in shock. He touched the abrasion, but it didn't bleed. He looked at her in disbelief. "What the hell, Maggie?"

He looked around the room frantically. "What the fuck? You're a girl! Girls have mirrors!" She didn't dare lower her hands from her mouth. She could barely keep a huge smile from her face at the sight of Luz racing around in a panic.

Luz finally found a hand mirror on the dresser. What he saw reflected made him gape. He turned to her. "I try to be a good friend and you deform me?"

That was it, Margaret burst out laughing. It was a long time before she could even stop to hiccup. Tears coursed down her face and she couldn't catch her breath. "Did you do this as a revenge prank? Because I have to tell you, this shit ain't funny!"

Margaret shook her head, trying to stop laughing. "Not...a...prank.." she was able to get out. Then she looked at his face before keeling over once again, howling with laughter.

"What going on up there?" they heard Randleman call from downstairs.

"Oh, nothing. Only Maggie decided to mutilate me!" Luz yelled back.

They heard roars of laughter below them. "OK then! Carry on!"

Luz sat back on the chair in a huff. He waited for to calm down enough. "Now you have to fix it," he said, his eyes dangerous. "And no funny business."

She finally stopped laughing, wiping the tears from her eyes. She stood up, a rogue chuckle leaving her from time to time. "I'm sorry, but you just caught me so off guard." She started to cut his hair again, shorter than she originally intended in an attempt to hide the flaw.

Luz snorted. "I try to make sure my best friend wasn't groped by our CO and instead she decided to attack me."

Margaret got quiet, focusing on his hair once again. "Captain Winters never groped me. You were quite right - he's a good man."

Luz waited. "But?"

Margaret sighed. She put down the scissors on the dresser. She then closed the door and sat on the bed, facing him. He could feel her nerves building.

"I haven't been completely honest with you, George," she said quietly. "You and I tell each other everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly." She paused. "But I didn't tell you this. I guess I was worried that you'd be angry with me, probably for being so stupid."

Luz froze. "Wait. You and Winters?"

Margaret gave him a hard look. "Don't say it like that. We aren't sleeping together. We aren't even together." Her fingers played with a stray thread on her pants. "We just had two days. We got to know each other outside the war. I quickly grew to...to..." Her eyes looked far away. Another long pause. "And we kissed."

A dawning look came over his face. "In Paris?"

She nodded. "Yeah. But it didn't go any farther, I want to make that clear. We only kissed. And then, he stopped it."

Luz looked at her sad eyes. "He stopped it," he repeated. He stood up and sat down on the bed beside her. "But you didn't want that?"

She shrugged. "I stopped it at the time, too. I just…" she looked at Luz, sadly. "I miss him."

Luz wrapped his arms around her, leaning her head against his chest. He stroked her hair calmly. "I bet he misses you too, Mags. Who wouldn't?"

She chuckled, closing her eyes. "You? I bet you wouldn't miss the haircut I just gave you."

He laughed running a hand through his hair. "I'd still miss you, Mags. You're the only one that laughs at my jokes."

She giggled and sat up. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "One day you're going to make some lucky girl very happy, George Luz." She stood, motioning to the chair. "Come on, let me try and even it out."

He grimaced but sat down anyway. They stayed in silence awhile. "Hey Mags? You aren't stupid." She smiled softly. "You're just in love."


	22. Lead Me

Winters and Nixon walked into the Haguenau headquarters to find Lipton, Spiers, and two replacement soldiers. "OK listen up," said Winters. "We are attacking tonight."

He outlined the mission to Spiers and Lipton, detailing how best to take the river and where to go from there. Winters looked at Spiers. "You can have 15 men. Choose someone to lead scout. Understood?"

Spiers nodded. "Yes, sir." Winters and Nixon left.

The replacement Lieutenant, without a speck of dirt on his uniform, approached him. "Captain? I'd like permission to take lead."

Spiers looked him up and down and smirked. "Need to get that uniform a little bloodied first, Jones. Besides, I already have a soldier in mind."

* * *

Margaret was sitting in a living room with Liebgott, Heffron, and Malarkey, trying their best to get the new Lieutenant to join the game and some conversation. It pained her to see Malarkey in so much pain. _Maybe Eugene is rubbing off on me_ , she thought. She shuffled the cards in front of them and dealt.

"OK boys, deuces wild."

As soon as they picked up their hand, Spiers walked into the room. "Sergeant Henry, a word please." The men raised their eyebrows and their eyes became wide. Only Malarkey didn't react.

Margaret stood and walked into the other room across the hall with him. Spiers stopped and turned to her. "Sergeant, we are crossing the river tonight. Fifteen men will enter enemy territory and return with a handle of krauts for interrogation. You will lead scout."

"Yes, sir." she nodded. She sucked on her teeth in attempt to hold her tongue.

He waited, an eyebrow raised. "Anything to add?"

She grinned. "Always, sir." Margaret thought she could see a hint of a smile. "May I recommend that 2nd platoon sit this one out. They led the last mission and I believe they could use a break." She thought with a pang of Malarkey.

Spiers nodded slowly. "I agree, they need a rest. But we have two replacements that just arrived and have joined 2nd. I'm assigning them as part of the group. One, Webster, says he fought with you before he was wounded."

Margaret nodded back. "Yes, before Bastogne. I remember. He's a good soldier and translator. And the other?"

Spiers sighed, she caught his eyes rolling a bit. "Jones or something along those lines. A West Point lieutenant with no field experience. He requested to lead this mission." Margaret smirked. "Obviously I will make it clear to him that you are in charge and that under no uncertain terms can he attempt to order you."

She felt her tongue take over again. "He can attempt, sir, but I can safely say he would not succeed and likely suffer for it."

Spiers actually gave her a smile. A small one, but it was there. "Glad we understand each other. Report to the debriefing at 1700."

"Yes, sir." He turned and left the house.

Margaret returned to the guys, who were poorly pretending to play poker instead of eavesdropping on her conversation. She sat down. "So there's a mission tonight." They groaned around her. "Don't worry, 2nd platoon has the night off. I'm leading those from 1st and 3rd."

Liebgott sighed. "Thank God." Heffron nodded in agreement.

Malarkey just looked at her for a long time before he said, "You're going to do great, Maggie."

Margaret smiled back at him. "Thanks, Don. That means a lot."

Heffron snorted. "Those krauts don't stand a chance. Did you see the way she stood up to Spiers just now? Not so much as a tremble. Our girl is going to kill it."

Margaret laughed. "You're too much, Babe. Besides, Spiers is starting to grow on me." The men all grimaced.

* * *

Winters was attempting to read a letter from Colonel Sink, but Nixon kept interrupting him. He sat next to Winters, bacon sandwich in hand.

"But just think, if we get into Germany this week, we could be home by summer. Hell, even spring. We are talking weeks, Dick," Nixon said, chewing.

Winters looked to him thoughtfully. "The tide does seem to be changing. You can feel it around the men too. We might just all get out of here alive."

Nixon grinned. "Don't forget about women."

Winters rolled his eyes. Nixon held up a hand. "I was talking about Sergeant Donovan, for Christ's sake. The krauts would never kill her. That blonde hair, killer blue eyes, and the alabaster skin that just…"

"You're married, Nix," Winters reminded him.

Nixon gave him an innocent look. "I'm just describing known preferred Aryan characteristics. That she happens to possess. Well."

Winters chuckled and attempted to look at his papers again. He looked up to see Nixon still staring at him. "What now? Are you going to describe Spiers' legs to me, or maybe Luz's rugged good looks?"

Nixon laughed, squeezing Winters' shoulder. "It's good to see your sense of humor returning, Dick. I had just about given up that you'd left it in a foxhole somewhere."

Winters grinned at him. "What sense of humor? You always tell me I was born without it."

Nixon laughed again, taking another bite. He paused and then swallowed. "But let's be serious for a moment, Mr. Comedian. We could actually do it. Make it home." Winters nodded, his eyes on the papers again. "You could actually get the opportunity to sweep that girl off her feet."

Winters looked back sharply to him, but his gaze not very stern. "How did I know it would end back up to this?"

Nixon grinned mischievously. "Because you know me so well. And because you've been thinking about it yourself."

Winters sighed. "I honestly try not to think about it." He took a deep breath. "I can't daydream about something that may not even happen. What if something were to happen to her? You've seen her in the field. She's fearless. And even worse, she dives into the danger if her fellow soldier is in trouble. It's a miracle she's still alive."

Nixon nodded, understanding. "I get it, Dick. I really do. It's hard not to get attached to anyone, and when you do, they seem to be the first to go." He paused, giving him an encouraging smile. "A little daydreaming is good for the soul though."

Winters pursed his lips in an attempt at annoyance, but he failed. "Maybe a little."

"Sir," Spiers said, approaching Winters. "I have assembled the team. We are ready to go at 0100 as scheduled."

Winters nodded. "Good. Who is leading scout?"

"Sergeant Henry, sir."

Winters felt himself blanch. "Henry?" Nixon looked up from his sandwich. He watched Winters's jaw tighten.

Spiers looked at the Captain curiously. "Yes, sir. She's a good soldier in the field and an excellent leader. The men respect her." Winters remained silent. "Unless you can suggest someone else, sir."

Winters shook his head, trying to rid himself of the daydreams. "No, Henry is a good choice. Make sure they're prepped and ready. I'll meet you at 1700 for the debriefing."

Spiers nodded and walked out. Winters returned to his correspondence, but couldn't see anything. He read and reread the same sentence until he finally put the papers down. He felt Nixon's eyes on him.

His friend just gave him a smile. Nixon didn't feel like torturing Winters about women anymore today.

* * *

"As you can see, we've assembled fifteen of you here for this prisoner snatch tonight, 0100," said Winters. He looked from soldier to soldier, trying not to notice the deadened looks in their eyes. "Four rubber boats will get you across the river. Lieutenant Jones here," Winters gestured to him, "although a ranking officer, will be along as an observer. Henry will lead the patrol."

Winters continued. "Remember, this is about prisoners. Don't pop the first thing that moves. Understood?" The men and Margaret replied with their affirmation.

Right before 0100, Margaret gathered her men. "OK everyone. Nothing rattles. Nothing shines. No helmets. We need to make this as silent and quick as possible. If we're lucky, we can be in and out in ten minutes, plenty of time left in the night for your beauty rest. And God knows you need it."

They chuckled, appreciating her humor. They've been nervous and fidgety all day, transfixed on the mission ahead. She looked each man in the eyes, nodding to them, trying to share her confidence. "Let's get it done, boys."

* * *

Right off the bat, Margaret should have taken it as a sign. The four boats were loaded, and they were set to go. As soon as the first three moved forward along the line, they heard a splash. The fourth boat capsized and three soldiers were trapped on that side of the river. Only twelve would make the trip.

Margaret signaled to them silently to stay back and provide covering fire if needed. _Hopefully won't need it_ , she thought grimly.

As they reached the shore, quietly they perched the boats onto solid ground. Margaret and Webster belly crawled up the plane until they found the first boobytrap. Snipping the barbed wire, they pushed it aside to allow everyone to crawl forward.

After all soldiers were through, Margaret signaled for them to hide in the shadows. She pointed to four of the men. "Covering fire on the left flank when needed," she said. "Wait for my signal." To another four, "Heffron, go cover the right flank, same orders."

"Jackson, Webster, Martin, you're with me. We're going to the second floor of this house, up those stairs to the right side. I want at least three prisoners to take back. If there are more, knives only. Guns only when necessary. We'll use grenades before we go in. On me." They nodded, their eyes wide but determined.

Margaret took a deep breath, "Go!" They ran towards the house. She led them silently to the right side. Pulling the pin from her grenade, she threw it into the window. Jackson ran up the stairs and threw another grenade into the other window. Before it had time to go off, he burst through the door.

"Jackson! Wait!" she cried. The grenade exploded and she heard his shout of pain. The three of them rushed in, guns aimed at the three krauts inside. Webster yelled at them in German, as Martin tried to round them up, forcing them to drop their weapons.

Margaret went to Jackson's side. The krauts continued to shout. "Keep those Germans quiet!" she hissed. "Webster, tell them to shut it or I'll cut their cocks off. Martin, tie their hands and gag them."

She looked down at Jackson's bloodied face. "You're going to be OK, Jackson. We're getting you back." Martin gagged the prisoners roughly, one very injured. She found she didn't much care. "Webster, go out and find the right flank. We need them to help bring Jackson back."

Webster nodded and left. He came back momentarily with four soldiers. She pointed at them. "Ramirez and Garcia, take Jackson. Heffron and Cobb, carry the wounded prisoner. Webster, Martin, take the other two. And Christ's sake, keep them quiet."

They hurried from the house, Margaret leading until she could signal the left flank. "Covering fire! Fall back!" All soldiers eventually made it to the boats, emotions running high. In their panic, the injured German fell from the boat. They left him behind. Across the water, Margaret urged them to hurry up the bank and away from the German artillery. She helped carry Jackson to headquarters, the blood on his face now covered in grit.

They burst through the door. "Make way! Wounded!" Jackson was laid on the table. Roe ran up to him, assessing his injuries, his face deadlocked in concentration.

"Move those krauts to the corner! Tie them up!" Margaret tried to move the men aside to give Roe room.

She heard a scream - Webster was waving a gun in the face of one of the prisoners. She pounced on his arm, trying to pull him back. "No! Webster, we need them alive! Do you want to go back there? We need them alive!"

Angry tears streamed down Webster's face, fighting her. They heard a croak from behind them and froze. Turning together, they watched as Jackson took his last breath.


	23. Together

The next morning, everyone was still quiet with shock. It was the general consensus that this war was almost over. They were almost home free - and no one else was supposed to die. Jackson was only twenty years old. Not even old enough to drink let alone die in war.

Roe found Margaret with her head in her hands, sitting under a tree near the riverbank. He squatted next to her. "You shouldn't be this close to the line, Maggie. It's not safe."

She didn't raise her face at first, just tried to take the next breath. And then the next. Finally, she looked up. "I just need a moment, Eugene."

He watched her look over across the river, towards the house that they attacked last night. This morning, they shelled the rest of it. The ruins were still smoking, but she could still see the stairs they ran up last night, where Jackson got blow away.

Roe sat down next to her. He waited a long time before speaking. "Jackson's death isn't your fault, Maggie. It was a terrible accident."

She nodded automatically, but he could tell she wasn't listening. She twisted something in her hands. Glittering in the sun, he recognized dog tags. He gestured to them. "Are those his?"

She nodded. "I need to give them to Spiers, but I can't seem to let them go yet."

Roe stopped the twisting of her hands with his. "Let's do it together."

Margaret nodded again, though silent. He sat up, and crouched in front of her until she looked into his eyes. "We're going to get through the rest of this war, Maggie. We are going to do this together." He placed a hand on her cheek. "You're going to survive, Margaret Henry. You're going to go home and you're going to live."

Tears built up in her eyes, and she nodded again, but he knew she was listening this time. He stood and held out a hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. Walking away, she leaned her head into the crook of his neck, his arms around her. They slowly made their way back to town, silently saying goodbye to Jackson and moving forward, together.

* * *

Winters watched out his window as Margaret and Roe embraced one another and walked away. The pit in his stomach wasn't caused by jealousy. No, he knew they had a strong friendship, besides, he held no claim to her. It pained him to watch her distressed. She represented everything light and cheerful and colorful in his eyes. Seeing her damaged caused him pain, but no, his distress today wasn't because of jealousy.

This pain within him came from Lt. Colonel Sink. Winters crushed the letter in his hand.

"Sink wants another patrol tonight. He wants more prisoners," Winters grunted.

"Yeah, he was pleased with the outcome of last night," Nixon replied, taking a swig from his canteen.

Winters scowled. "He knows we lost a man?"

Nixon nodded. "He also know you picked up two prisoners that talked. You gave him a successful patrol. Now he wants two."

"Successful?" Winters sneered. "What part about last night was successful?"

Spiers walked up. "Sir, I made a list of the roster for the patrol. It's the same group as last night, but I thought you'd want it for your report."

Winters took the list and looked down at the names. He couldn't look past Margaret Henry.

Spiers spoke again, "I'll brief them now, sir?"

Winters paused, his eyes still focused on the list of names. Finally, he looked up. "No, I'll do it."

* * *

Winters stood in front of the fourteen soldiers. Nixon and Spiers stood in the back of the room, watching. "You soldiers did an excellent job last night." He looked at each of them. "I'm...proud. Proud of what you did. Colonel Sink wanted me to pass along his thanks to you. He is proud as well, so proud in fact, he wants you to do another patrol across the river tonight."

Winters paused. Some of the men hung their heads. Some started lighting cigarettes to ward off their nerves. "The plan is the same, we just need you to go in deeper this time to another house, farther away. It will be 0200 instead of 0100, is that clear?" He watched one soldier attempt to take a sip of coffee, but his hand shook so hard, he couldn't reach the rim to his lips.

And then he met her eyes. "Good, because I want you all to get a full night's sleep tonight." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "Which means in the morning, you'll report to me that you made it across the river into German lines, but were unable to secure any live prisoners." All troopers now looked up to him, and he was forced to pull his eyes from Margaret.

He looked around the table. "Understand?"

"Yes, sir," they murmured, shocked. Winters had always looked out for his soldier, but to disobey a direct order, they were left stunned.

Winters met her eyes again, trying to read her thoughts. "Look sharp for tomorrow," he added to the men. "We're moving off the line." He left without another word, Nixon and Spiers behind him.

* * *

The next morning Easy loaded the trucks to move out of Haguenau. News was spreading around. Lipton was being honorably discharged, but they gained Lieutenant Welsh again, back from the hospital. All in all, Easy company was in good spirits.

"Let me take that, Maggie," Malarkey said, removing her bag from her shoulder.

Margaret smiled. "Thanks, Don. You're sweet." Malarkey blushed a bit and smiled. She could see traces of his old self starting to return. He walked away from her, leaving her alone in the middle of the square.

As she watched her fellow soldiers pack, Margaret ruminated. The loss of Jackson on her watch still hurt. She understood the loss wasn't her fault, but she also understood Sink's enthusiasm of the outcome. She realized at last she was just exhausted. She was so tired of accepting death as a price to pay for gain.

"Sergeant Henry."

Margaret turned to see Spiers walking towards her. "Captain. What can I do for you?"

He looked hard at her, seemingly assessing her before he spoke. "I know that the patrol didn't go exactly as planned, but you did good work that night. When I spoke with the men, they told me that you executed the task at hand brilliantly and kept a level head even when met with trouble."

Margaret could feel a blush creeping up her neck, but she tried to push it down. _Hell if I blush in front of Spiers_. "Thank you, sir. It was a team effort. Everyone played their part."

He continued to stare at her. "You shouldn't be so humble, Margaret. Accept the praise when you've earned it."

Margaret bit her lip, but it didn't stop her tongue. "A little humility goes a long way, don't you think, sir?"

Spiers chuckled. "Maybe you can accept a battlefield commission then."

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "Sir?"

He grinned, enjoying her moment of shock. "I've recommended to Captains Winters and Nixon that you be promoted based on your recent performances. There is some paperwork that needs to be signed, of course, but I would expect the official nod in a few days. Congratulations, Lieutenant."

Dozens of thoughts raced through her head, excitement and pride at the top. But also sadness. Jackson's death left a dark mark on this moment. She swallowed through it though, and simply nodded. "Thank you, sir." Spiers grinned again, observing her struggle for control. He held out his hand. She shook it briefly before he turned and left.

As soon as he was out of sight, Margaret turned to try and catch her breath. She tried to wrap her head around the news, but found she couldn't. In front of her about ten yards away, she saw Nixon throw a small box at Winters. He opened it and looked inside. Then a moment later, a grinning Nixon saluted him. He walked away from a shocked Winters.

Margaret walked up to him then. "I am going to take a guess and say oak leaves, sir?"

Winters looked up to her voice and smiled slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, Nixon just gave them to me. A gift from Colonel Sink."

Margaret smiled in return. "I have to say it's well deserved." She paused a moment, staring into his eyes. "Congratulations, Major Winters."

Winters closed the box and placed it in his pocket. "Thank you, Margaret. But I think if the good Colonel knew about my disobedience last night, he'd retract the promotion instantly." He grinned lopsidely to her, hands in his pockets.

"It was the right thing to do, sir."

He nodded. "I know. But it was still hard to go against orders."

Margaret smiled brighter. "True solider through and through." He snorted, kicking the ground.

Winters looked back up into her eyes. "But I need to return the congratulations. Colonel Sink has approved your battlefield commission." He paused and his smile grew. He held out his hand to her. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Henry."

She took his hand in hers, but they didn't shake. They took a moment just to touch each other, feel each other's warmth, before they were forced to let go. She saluted him, and he returned it. He then watched her walk away to her truck, and even after it drove away, he watched her go for a long time.


	24. Losing Yourself

Easy company met little resistance when they entered Germany. The kraut soldiers were either fleeing or simply giving up. There were more than enough prisoners of war for questioning, and after several airstrikes, the townspeople would surrender before they even walked through town lines.

After a few stops in Germany with nothing but booze and gambling to keep them occupied (and needy German women to occupy the men's beds), they finally were given their next mission. Although the honor of jumping into Berlin was given to another regiment, Easy was given the task to hunt for Hitler and his SS soldiers. That meant their next stop was the Alps within Bavaria.

On the way to their destination, Margaret sat across from Luz, trying to tune Liebgott out as he went on and on about how large the breasts of his future wife had to have if he was to consider marrying her. She rolled her eyes and listened instead to Luz's conversation with a replacement soldier, Janovec.

"What are you reading, Janovec?" Luz asked, gesturing to the newspaper he was holding.

Janovec didn't look up. "Uh, an article."

Luz looked at Margaret and cocked his head towards the replacement. "No shit." Margaret grinned. "What's it about?"

Janovec was oblivious to Luz making fun of him. "It's about why we're fighting the war."

A big smile stretched across Luz's face and Margaret giggled. "Why we fighting the war, Janovec?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"It seems that the Germans are bad. Very bad."

Margaret couldn't take it. She tried to listen again to Liebgott talk about breasts again before Janovec caught on. Luz just stared at him. "You don't say. The Germans are bad, huh?"

He looked over at her with a look that said, _Oh no, you're still in this_. "Hey Maggie! Maggie!"

Margaret had to turn and look back to him. Janovec looked up as well, his interest peaking. Margaret tried not to roll her eyes. The boy seemed to have a crush on her.

"Yes, George?"

Luz pointed to Janovec. "This guy is trying to tell me that the Germans - they're bad. Learn something new every day, huh?"

Margaret bit her lip hard as Janovec waited patiently for her answer. She coughed, glaring at Luz, his smile evil. "You don't say."

This only encouraged Janovec to repeat his entire story to Margaret. She attempted to seem interested, but if he knew her better, he'd know her face told him everything. Right now her face said she wanted to kill George Luz.

Luz only smiled sweetly and waved. _Just wait_ , he mouthed to her, repeating her own threat. Margaret could only narrow her eyes before having to respond in interest to Janovec's questions.

* * *

They arrived into the outskirts of Landsberg within a few hours. Along the way, they watched German POWs being marched in the opposite direction from where they were headed. Although the krauts marched peacefully, this didn't stop some Easy soldiers from mocking and yelling curses to them. Margaret watched as one threw a bottle of piss, soaking a few soldiers' feet. She sat back, torn by what she saw.

After arriving into Landsberg, they overtook the German-occupied village. They ransacked each house and building until it was clear. There wasn't much to check - airstrikes hit the town earlier that week. Most of the enemy forces had fled long before they arrived.

Within the hour, Winters had patrols set up. While Dog company took the village, Easy and Fox companies cleared the woods. Margaret took watch in the east with half of the Easy crowd, their trip easily becoming quiet and boring.

Perconte looked around the woods, staring each way. "Hey George, doesn't this place remind you of Bastogne?"

Margaret could see the sarcasm seep into Luz well before he opened his mouth. "Yeah, now that you mention it. Except of course there's no snow. There's warm grub in our bellies. And the trees aren't fucking exploding with kraut artillery. But yeah, Frank, it's a lot like Bastogne."

"Right?"

"Maggie, can you smack him for me please?"

"Ow!"

"Thank you!"

They continued through the forest for a few more minutes before Randleman stopped them. "What is it, Bull?" she whispered.

Randleman looked around through the trees. "It's too quiet."

Margaret was about to quip back with something snarky, but she stopped herself. Randleman was right. Even the birds seemed to have disappeared. He gestured up ahead. "There's a clearing. Let's move. Quiet, everyone."

They walked silently through the brush, their eyes searching for the enemy. Finally, they had come up to an abrupt edge to the tree line. Sweet smoke infiltrated her nose as she took into the barricade in front of them.

"What the hell?" said Luz, any humor leaving his voice.

Standing tall in front of them was a camp of some sort. Tall, double thick, chain-linked walls stood before them. Barbed wire circled along the top. They stood near the left corner. Margaret peered around and down to see the perpendicular wall go down farther than her eye could see.

"Do you think it was a headquarters of some sort?" asked Perconte.

Margaret shook her head. "Look are the way the barbed wire is positioned. These walls were made to keep something inside, not keep something or someone out."

Suddenly they heard the shuffle of several feet approach them. They instantly raised their rifles. Liebgott called out in German for them to show themselves with their hands up. Through the smoke, they saw about a dozen people walk slowly to them.

It was as if Margaret left her body. When she saw the first person clearly, her arms became heavy and detached. She lowered her rifle without really realizing it. When the next figure came into sight, she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She didn't know how she still stood. And then when more came through the smoke, Margaret swore her heart stopped beating.

Her eyes raked over the person in the front. His face looked ancient, the deep lines of his skin hung limply on his sunken cheekbones. His bare chest had sunken into his ribs; she could count each bone. That fact alarmed her. _How can I count bones I shouldn't be able to see?_

His feet, deformed and crooked, shuffled towards them until he reached the indoor fence. Bony fingers curled around the chainlink. Behind him, more men gathered until they reached the fence as well, some crawling on the ground. The majority wore striped uniforms, each with a faded gold star on the front. The front man whispered one word to them, and Margaret didn't need Liebgott as a translator. _Help,_ he said.

She heard Randleman swallow hard beside her. "Perconte," he whispered. "Go find Major Winters now and bring him here. Tell him we need as many men as possible. Run. Now!"

Margaret absently heard Perconte stumble and then run back into the woods. His heavy footsteps fell away. The others dropped their weapons.

She stepped towards the exterior fence, her eyes locked on the front man. His shallow breathing started to break into coughing as he repeated his plea over and over again.

Margaret hooked her fingers through the chainlink. She tried to swallow, but her throat was bone dry. "We're going to help you," she said, hardly more than a whisper. She tried to clear her throat again. "Help is on its way. We're going to help you," she repeated.

The man's plea was quieted. He looked her deep in the eyes, seeing compassion there. The expression seemed foreign to him. She saw him nod, understanding. The others began to stare at her as well, their eyes sunken. She could see the outlines of their skulls. Some were missing all their teeth.

Luz moved up behind her. "Maggie, help is on its way. Come back here with us, doll."

Margaret couldn't tear her eyes from the dozen men before her. They silently assessed one another, their eyes drinking her in. She couldn't leave them. "I'm fine right here, George," she heard herself reply.

Luz nodded, but he stayed with her. He placed his hand on top of hers, linking his fingers through the chain link. He stared at the prisoners as well, rooted to the spot. Curious about him, they glanced his way as well, but then their eyes returned to her. She tried to communicate to them that it was going to be OK, not sure if that promise was even possible.

Whether it was only minutes or several hours, she heard jeeps arriving in the distance. She felt Luz tug on her sleeve. "Come on, Mags. Major Winters is here."

His name moved something inside her, and she nodded from her daze. Blinking, she turned away from the men, her heart beating feedbly.

They walked over to the center of the wall barrier. She didn't even notice that a road led right into an entrance to the camp. Near the locked doors, Winters, Nixon and the rest of Easy company gathered.

Winters looked over the camp, his eyes taking in the deplorable conditions and the skeleton men near the locked gates. Dead bodies lined near the door. He nodded to Perconte, who held the tools they took from the village. "Open the gates, Frank."

Perconte and a few others moved to the front. He cut through the lock, as Liebgott and Webster murmured to the prisoners to move away. Their gentle tones, so unlike their normal strong soldier demeanors, tore at another part of Margaret. As the gates opened, the troops slowly walked into the camp. She didn't think it possible, but what they saw only got worse from there.

Ahead of them, dozens and dozens of squat barracks lined up, disappearing down the line in the smoke. They walked, and more prisoners stumbled towards them. Margaret felt hands on her arms. They reached out to each of them, to touch them, just trying to make sure they were really there. That they were really there to save them from hell.

An older man tripped and Luz caught him. He looked up to Luz, tears pouring down his face. He kissed him on one cheek and then the other before hugging Luz close. Luz's eyes bugged from his head. It took him a moment, but he started to rub the old man's back in reassurance.

Margaret moved on. She passed Winters, Nixon and Liebgott together with a younger, tall prisoner. He wasn't hunched over like most. His striped shirt was open. The skin on his stomach looked eaten.

Liebgott asked the prisoner why they were there. As he relayed the answer in English to Winters, another piece of her heart broke. _They were only Jews. Not criminals. Only Jews, gypsies and Poles_.

Margaret wandered aimlessly down the line. Each prisoner she passed touched her. She tried everything in her power to pass along to them some strength, but her own was fading fast. The taste of the smoke caught in her throat. It was unnaturally sweet. As she passed by one barracks that was burnt to the ground, she recognized charred bodies in a pile.

The realization of what caused the odd smell seemed to hit most of them at once. In the corner of her eye, she saw Cobb bend over to be sick. Martin soon joined him. Margaret panted, trying to rid her throat of the harsh smoke, but only took more into her lungs.

Just then, a man stumbled towards her, grasping her arms. She tried to steady him by the elbows, but his hysteria was immediate. His hands came her to face. "Katarzyna," he croaked.

The man was probably hardly older than Margaret, but the trials of his time at camp caused him to look decades more. His eyes, once probably lighter and clear, scanned her face with their muddy, faded color. "Katarzyna?" he cried.

His kissed her cheek before pulling her into a tight embrace. "Katarzyna. Katarzyna," he repeated, over and over in her ear. Through his distress, she recognized a touch of hope, and instantly her stomach dropped.

Margaret pulled back slightly, trying to look into his eyes. "I'm not Katarzyna," she murmured to him.

He only shook his head and kissed her cheek again. He rambled off in German, but she heard him repeat the name over and over again. Tears threatened to choke Margaret. At that moment, she would do anything to become the woman he thought she was, whether sister, wife, or friend. "I'm so sorry. I'm not Katarzyna. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

The realization struck him. His face crumbled and his collapsed onto his knees. Margaret fell with him. His loss felt anew, and now he repeated the name in raw mourning. "Katarzyna...Katarzyna…." he cried.

Margaret held onto him as best as she could, but she could feel that she was losing hold onto herself. Whatever strength she had left, she pushed it out and tried to give it to the man in her arms.

* * *

Luz found her on the ground still, even after the man had left her. The troopers were handing out fresh bread and water. Those prisoners that couldn't make to the food themselves were carried by others.

"Maggie?" he asked quietly, kneeling next to her. "Mags, let's go help hand out the rations."

She didn't respond at first. Luz tried again. "Maggie, I need you to get up for me." His voice was gentle, as if she were a frightened child. "I need you to stand with me and help. Help these men. I know you can do it."

Margaret nodded, taking a deep breath. Luz knew she couldn't let her men down, even in hell. She stood, he helped with both hands, but she didn't look at him. "That's my girl."

They walked unsteadily towards the truck, Perconte and Randleman immediately handing them loaves of bread to break and hand out. The gratification of watching the starving men eat fresh food was short-lived.

Liebgott stood on the truck and asked everyone to quiet down. His face was hard, but she could see a battle in his eyes. Webster came up next to her and Luz. Liebgott spoke to the prisoners in German, and the mood changed instantanouesly.

Luz asked Webster, "What's Liebgott saying to them?"

Webster frowned, swallowing hard. "He's telling them that they need to stay in the camp, at least for tonight. He's telling them they can't leave yet until we find them all a place to go. And that their food will have to be rationed."

Luz looked aghast. "Rationed? What the fuck, these people are starving. Give them the goddamn food!"

Webster nodded. "Exactly. The doctor informed Winters that if they are allowed their fill, they could kill themselves by overeating. Their intake has to be monitored."

Luz cursed again, but understood. Margaret simply watched the prisoners cry out, not understanding this new cruelty. _They thought they were free_ , she thought numbly. _And we're locking them back up_. The last piece of her heart broke and fell away.

* * *

After the tortuous task of locking the gates again, a handful of Easy soldiers were assigned to stay behind and protect the prisoners. The rest were headed back to town for the night.

In the trucks, the soldiers were silent. Some men cried silently, aghast at what they've witnessed. Others closed their eyes, trying to eliminate the images in their mind. Most just stared numbly into space.

Luz was looking at Margaret, holding her hand. It was ice cold. He looked up and saw Roe staring at her too, but he caught his eye. They looked worriedly to each other, and Roe nodded. He understood he was needed when they returned.


	25. Please

**M is for mature ;)**

* * *

Roe supported Margaret to her attic room on the third floor. He helped her sit on the bed before moving towards the bathtub in the other corner. Turning on the hot water, he turned back to her, gently removing her long hair from the tight bun.

"The bath will help. It's good for the soul. You're lucky to be assigned a room with one," he said, kneeling in front of her. He removed her boots and socks from her feet. She stared blankly ahead.

Roe frowned. "Maggie, can you look at me?" She didn't move. He took her chin in his hand and turned her face towards his. "Maggie? I want you to get into the bath, OK? Will you do that for me?"

Margaret's eyes were glassy, but she finally nodded. Roe picked her up and placed her back on her feet. He removed her jacket, her arms lying on her sides lifeless. He frowned again. "I'm going to remove your shirt now, OK?"

She nodded diligently back. Roe quickly unbuttoned her shirt, removing it to reveal her tshirt underneath. He moved to the bathtub, testing the water with his hand. He turned off the faucet, and came back to her. Her eyes remained straight ahead.

He sighed. "Do you need help with your pants?" She looked down at her legs as though never seeing them before. She looked back up to him, meeting his eye for a moment before looking away. She nodded.

Roe sighed again and undid the button of her trousers and sliding them from her hips. He sat her back on the bed. His medical training had taken over. He didn't even blush at the sight of bare thighs and underwear. He slipped the pants off and threw them to the floor.

He crouched in front of her again. "Think you can manage the rest?" She nodded softly. He gave her a small smile. "OK, I want you to get into the bath and rest. I'll be back in about an hour to check on you. OK?" She nodded again.

Frowning, he stood. He looked down at her until she stood up as well and walked to the tub. Satisfied, Roe left.

* * *

"She refuses to leave, sir. I didn't know what else to do. She won't respond to me," Roe said, concern evident on his face. Minutes before, after searching for what felt like a long time, he had found Winters on his way back from the showers, his boots not even laced and his hair still damp. Winters didn't question Roe; he simply followed the medic to Margaret.

They quietly walked to up the stairs to her room, slipping by the group of men in the common room unnoticed. Inside, they found Margaret.

She sat in the bathtub, her knees to her chest, her arms around her legs. She rested her chin on top and she stared blankly ahead, tears coursing down her cheeks. She never removed the remainder of her clothing.

Winters stood shocked for a moment before kneeling in front of the tub. Roe stood behind him, watching fretfully. He had tried over an hour to get her from the tub. He tried coaxing, shouting, pulling, and finally begging. She remained in the cooling water, the color drained from her face.

"Margaret?" Winters said softly. "It's Major Winters." He paused, feeling Roe's presence behind him, but not caring. "It's Dick." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I need you to get out of the tub now, OK?"

It was a long moment before Margaret turned her head towards him, her cheek now against the top of her knees. She dragged her eyes to his face, taking it in before she met his eyes. Silently, she nodded, but she didn't move.

Winters nodded back before placing both his hands under her arms and lifted her from the cool water until she stood. He looked into her eyes, still lifeless, causing a shiver to go down his back. He turned her to face him, her feet sloshing the water around.

He took her arms and wrapped them around his neck. Then he hugged her to himself, not even noticing the water seeping into his chest from her soaked tshirt. Winters lifted her from the water, but surprising both him and Roe, she wrapped her bare legs around his middle and held on tight.

Winter carried her to the bed and sat down, Margaret still attached to him. She burrowed closer into his shoulder and started to weep. The sound made his heart ache. Roe fidgeted by the door, pain evident on his face.

"How...how can any...anyone..." she stuttered, her arms locked solid around his neck. "...such evil...cruelty…another human..." Margaret's body shook with sobs. He could feel her tears pooling at his neck.

Winters locked eyes with Roe. He nodded to the medic. Roe hesitated, but nodded back. He turned to leave the room, looking back one last time to Margaret, and then walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Winters rubbed both hands up and down her back, trying to warm her through the wet shirt. He stroked her hair, tangling his hand in the damp ends. Quietly, he shushed her, repeating over and over that everything was going to be OK, even if he wasn't sure if he believed it himself.

It was several minutes later when he could feel her begin to relax. Her arms weren't as tight around his neck and her legs calmed around his waist. She hiccuped against him.

He continued to murmur in her ear until he felt her kiss his neck. At first he thought it was an afterthought, or maybe even any accident, but then she kissed his neck again, longer this time.

"Margaret," he whispered, warning her. She kissed the side of his neck again, moving closer towards his throat.

"Please, Dick," she murmured, her lips still against his skin. He froze, his hands still in her hair. "Kiss me," she said.

Winters groaned softly, trying to gently pull her away. She pushed back, arriving at his throat before scraping her teeth on his adam's apple. He groaned again, finally pulling her off his neck. "Margaret, stop. We can't." She glared at him, and although he was thrilled to see a small spark back in her eyes, he knew they couldn't do this.

Margaret eyed his lips in response and dove. She punished him, burning her lips across his hard, causing him to gasp. She took the opportunity and slid her tongue in, caressing him.

He gasped again. He was drowning in her, unable to breath, and he was so close to letting the water overtake him. _More like fire_. _Let the fire burn me_. She bruised his lips with her own and he could only think, _More._

But they couldn't. He broke away, pushing her back by holding her away by the shoulders. Her legs still clamped around his waist, and for the first time, he remembered her lack of clothing. The area in his pants tightened uncomfortably.

"Margaret, we can't. You know that. We need to stop," he panted.

Margaret tried to capture his lips again, but he turned away. Her eyes flashed with anger and she tried again. He turned his head farther until he heard her whimper. "Please, Dick."

He looked her back to her, heartbroken at what he saw. Tears pooled in her eyes, the deadened look returned. "Please, kiss me. We are surrounded by so much death. So much death, everywhere, all the time." she whispered, hiccuping again. She leaned in and brushed her lips on his. "Please." She moved to his neck, encouraged when he didn't push her away. She began to kiss the skin there again. "Please. Can we live for once?" She trailed move kisses to his ear before whispering, "Please. Love me."

Her last words were his breaking point. Winters stood abruptly, hooking his hands under her, holding her to him. He pushed them against the door, his fingers digging into her, pulling her hips closer.

She pulled her face from his neck and she saw the fire in his eyes a moment before he stole her lips in his. Her arms tightened around his neck, urging him closer. They couldn't get enough. His hips dug into her pelvis, and she could feel him. Deep inside, she felt a tightening at the sensation. She moaned before dropping her legs from his hips.

As soon as she landed on her feet, he pulled her to him again, needing to feel her entire length up against his own. Winters had never felt such passion. Her touch was like a slow burn, and at any moment he could turn to ash. Then he felt her suck on his bottom lip, and he just about lost it.

Margaret broke his searing kiss for air. Panting and in between subsequent kisses from him, she murmured, "You're wearing too many clothes."

He grunted in agreement. "You're one to talk," he replied, catching her lips with his again, stealing her breath.

Her hands roamed to his shoulders and clumsily pushed his suspenders from them. With her hands shaking, she tried to undo the buttons of his shirt. After several failed attempts, he tried to help her. Failed again.

They broke away, giggling, quick kisses in between as they together got his shirt open. She pulled it from his pants before tearing it from his shoulders. He shrugged his tshirt off, before pulling hers over her head as well.

Curving into him, their chests and lips met. Margaret stood on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck once more and she dug her fingers into his hair.

He found the clasp of her bra. With steadier hands this time, he easily removed it, deftly sweeping it from her. He crashed her bare chest to him, stroking her back. The soft skin there sent a chill up his spine. Twisting from the door and pushing his weight onto her, they stumbled towards the bed. Winters kicked his untied boots from his feet.

Crashing together, Margaret fell onto her back in the bed. Winters, crushing her with his long body, laid between her legs. Giggling together again, their kisses slowed.

He stroked her hair from her face, smiling softly down to her. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He kissed her sweetly and softly, trying to take everything in.

Margaret's arms were trapped around his neck, but she wasn't about to complain. Her fingers played with the damp hair at the nape of his neck, stroking the skin there. She became lost in his eyes, her heart slowing from the loud thumps moments before. She caught his lips with hers again, before whispering, "I love you, Dick."

Winters' eyes softened and his smile grew. "I love you, too," he murmured, before kissing her again. Their lips remained locked, the passion growing fast again.

She felt his hips grind into her and she gasped. She growled when she realized his pants were still on. "If you really love me," she said in between groans as he kissed her neck, "then you'll get rid of your pants."

Winters chuckled against her skin. "Patience, love."

His words sent butterflies through her chest, but she pouted. He kissed her quickly on the lips to stop further protest, before moving down her throat and towards her chest. Her breathing started to stagger as he found her left breast.

Kissing the rounded flesh softly, Winters lapped his tongue around her nipple, causing it to harden instantly. Margaret moaned loudly. He looked up with a satisfied grin on his face. "If you want me to continue, love, you're going to have to hold that tongue of yours." He continued licking and sucking at her breast before moving on to the right side.

Margaret moaned again, but softer this time. Her fingernails scraped against his scalp. "You first," she replied.

He chuckled again before moving to kiss down her stomach. He reached the top of her white cotton underwear, teasing a finger underneath the elastic. With his thumbs, he pulled the material down her legs and to the floor.

Margaret tugged on his hair for him to return to kiss her, but he maintained position, restarting his descent, kissing along the way. Her head shot up. "What...what are you doing?" she croaked. Winters only shushed her, smiling again. She laid her head back down and tried to relax.

He nuzzled his nose in her dark hair before moving to the inside of one thigh. Scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin, she wriggled. Clicking his tongue at her, he moved to the other thigh, repeating the action. Her hips bucked.

"Dick, please," she begged, not sure exactly what she was begging for.

Winters smiled. He met her eyes before returning to the task at hand. His tongue gently caressed her folds, tasting her. Her scent hit, intoxicating him, and a moment later he couldn't stop. He sucked and kissed and nuzzled her. He delved deeper. His hands had to hold down her hips; her control was waning.

Margaret didn't know what to expect after he tore his eyes from hers. After the sensation of his teeth on her inner thigh, she didn't think it could feel better than that. How wrong she was. When his tongue touched her, she honestly thought she had melted into the bed. As he continued kissing her down there and then sucking on her skin, she felt a fire deep in her belly start to grow.

"Dick," she panted. "I...God...I...please, baby, stop. I...can't…" Winters ignored her, but she could feel his smile. The fire was building, so much so she swore she could see it behind her eyelids. Her hips bucked against his hands.

Margaret felt the moan deep inside her chest a moment before it escaped her mouth. Then fireworks erupted behind her eyes.

Winters watched as she came, his eyes locked on her face. He growled in his chest before climbing on top of her again, capturing her lips in his, stopping her moan. His pants were incredibly tight, and he pushed himself between her thighs.

She felt like she had to be pulled back from a deep stupor. It took her a moment to realize he was kissing her lips again, and that she could taste herself from him tongue. She automatically wrapped her legs around his middle, frowning when the felt his pants still at his hips.

Margaret pulled away, pouting. "Now can your pants go away?"

Winters chuckled, trying to catch his breath. He didn't reply but he pulled himself from her grasp and stood, quickly removing his socks.

Margaret tried not to whine when he pulled away and she couldn't touch him anymore, but she quieted instantly when she saw him reach to undo the button of his trousers. His eyes remained locked on hers, the color a deep navy blue that she knew she would never forget.

Her breath became ragged again as he torturously took off his pants in seemingly slow motion. Her eyes never wavered from his, and the desire between them grew. Standing in his boxers, he paused a moment before hooking his thumbs in the waistband and removing them to the floor. He watched her eyes travel lower, a blush forming on her cheeks.

Margaret couldn't stop herself. She tried to maintain eye contact, but when the boxers slid lower, so did her eyes. She took in his naked form, and surveyed his hard length standing at attention. She took a deep breath and bit her lip, the fire growing within her again.

Winters watched her bite her lip and he moved towards her. His eyes raked down her naked body, trying to memorize the flushed color of her skin. His eyes met hers again, and he crawled up her body. Wrapped around each other, he entered her slowly, gently.

Margaret gasped, feeling him inside her. She whimpered a bit before urging him to continue with a nudge from her hips. Winters groaned and buried himself in her at once. Their lips met, and they rocked together slowly, savoring each touch, every stroke.

He knew he wouldn't be able to last long. Her heat engulfed him and he could feel her tightening around him. He pulled away from the kiss, and looked deep into her eyes as he quickened his pace.

She dug her hands into his hair again, twisting and tugging, knowing she was close again to losing control. His mouth sucked at her neck, teeth brushing at the skin when he groaned again. The fire grew, and in the next moment, it exploded.

Winters felt her hands scratch from his neck and down his back as she came again. He panted, murmuring into her ear before he joined her over the edge and then collapsed on top of her.

* * *

Winters stroked her hair as she nuzzled her face into his chest. She laid on her side, half on top of him, fighting sleep, her hip slung over his. His eyes looked out the window and into the night.

"How long will you stay?" she murmured into his skin.

He took a breath, kissing the top of her head. "I'll be here until you fall asleep."

Margaret looked up to him, catching his eye, and grinned. "Challenge accepted."

He chuckled, catching her chin in his hand and kissed her softly. "Sleep, love." Her eyes looked back at him, a slight sadness in them. He cupped his hand on her cheek and kissed her again. "We'll be together soon."

Margaret smiled. She laid back onto his chest, her fingers tracing the fine hair she found there. Sleep started to win.

He felt her body slowly relax and she fell into what he hoped were only good dreams. Today held both horror and hope; he prayed she only dreamt about hope.

Winters knew he had to go, but he told himself just a minute more. With that time, he tried to memorize the feeling of her in his arms. One more minute. He took a deep breath of her hair, cherishing the scent. One more minute. He stroked her bare back, tattooing the feeling to his fingertips. Another minute, and it was time.


	26. Flattery Gets You Everywhere

Margaret found the rest of Easy coming from breakfast the next morning. Luz saw her and his face lit up. Handing her a roll, he nudged her with his hip. "Glad to see you up, trooper. I was about to go up there and disturb your beauty sleep."

Margaret laughed, taking a bite of the roll. "I'm glad I beat you to the punch then. I can only imagine what that would enstore."

They walked away from the others, towards a quiet corner of town. Luz looked at her. "Are you OK, Mags?"

She was silent a moment before responding. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm OK."

Luz nodded. "I knew Doc would know what to do."

Margaret blushed and looked away. _Yeah, he knew to bring me a handsome officer with a charming lopsided grin_ , she thought. She finished her roll and licked the butter from her fingers. "What's the plan for today?"

Luz looked at her curiously. "Well besides watching the krauts clean shit up around town, General Taylor has invoked martial law." Her eyes flew to him. "Yeah, any able-bodied German aged 14 to 80 is being sent to the camp to bury the bodies."

Margaret felt her lip curl. "Good. Fucking scum. Then they can see for themselves the horror they ignored for years."

Luz nodded, agreeing. "Yeah and they found a place for the prisoners. They are leaving the camp this morning and will be treated here in town."

Margaret stopped walking. "And the women's camp across the way?"

Luz shrugged. "I'm sure Taylor has set up something similar. Apparently there are a lot of camps like this." Seeing the color leave her face, he quickly changed the subject. He directed them towards the town square. "We're headed out again. Some place called Thalem. 1200."

Margaret nodded, still deep in her thoughts. Luz tried again. "So what did Doc do to make you feel better last night?"

Margaret smiled softly. Her eyes looked far away. "He had me take a bath."

Luz huffed. "A bath? I could have done that! Plus I would have provided some company for you." He wiggled his eyebrows. Margaret laughed and smacked him. He couldn't describe how good it felt to see her laugh again.

Across the way, she saw Roe load medical supplies into a truck. He stopped when he saw her. She kissed Luz on the cheek before running to Roe. She needed her friend to not worry about her any longer.

* * *

Easy company left for Thalem that afternoon. American troops were ordered not to help the Germans clean up their destroyed village, which is something Easy had helped with when they could while in France or Belgium. Watching the krauts clean their square became silent entertainment until their next orders arrived. As an added bonus, Nixon had the pleasure of announcing that day that Hitler was dead; he had killed himself in Berlin.

Although the head of the Third Reich was gone, his plans weren't dead just yet. He had ordered his followers to protect his precious Eagle's Nest from the Allied invaders. So to Berchtesgaden they were to go.

Over the next month, they slowly made their way through the Alps towards the Nazi headquarters. The troops of Easy could never forget what they saw in those camps, and they were eager to be the ones to take over the Eagle's Nest for revenge.

Finally, in early May, they made it to the main road to Berchtesgaden, only to find the road blocked with a huge pile of rock and stone. Spiers walked over to Margaret's truck. "Lieutenant." Margaret saluted and he returned it. "I need you to assign a few soldiers to an urgent task."

The men around her clammed up. No one wanted to go on patrol. "Yes, sir," she replied. "What's the task?"

Spiers gave her a grin. "To blow some shit up." He walked away. The men in the truck immediately all volunteered.

"Maggie! Please let me go," begged Heffron, his big eyes pleading.

Luz pushed his face away. "Mags, don't let those puppy dog eyes fool you. You need a real man for this job." Margaret scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Then she would naturally choose me," piped up Perconte. The entire truck full of men gathered around her. Roe sat across from her with a grin on his face, not attempting to volunteer.

 _Boys and their toys_ , she thought, rolling her eyes.

As though he could read her mind, his grin grew. _Whatever makes her smile again_ , he thought.

Margaret stood. "OK, OK, OK!" she yelled, quieting them instantly. "I'd like it to be known, that begging will get you nowhere." She paused, keeping them at her attention. "And none of you fools thought of flattery instead."

They each instantly started complimenting her. "Maggie, you know you're the most beautiful woman any of us has ever seen," crooned Malarkey, kissing her hand. She laughed lightly.

"Maggie, I would propose if I didn't think you'd turn me down."

"And that ass," added Luz, nodding looking at her up and down. "I mean fellas, amiright?"

They all started agreeing, the noise of their shouting caused other trucks to look over in curiosity. She shushed them again. "You didn't let me finish. None of you fools thought of flattery," she repeated, pausing. "But flattery will also get you nowhere. But thanks for the compliments. Popeye, I accept. Let's choose a date. And you're never touching my ass, George."

The men chuckled again. It felt so good to be able to do something after a month of nothing. She waited for them to settle. "So with that, I need…" She contemplated, looking around. She stopped short. "Wait, there's another truck of guys to choose from, I'll be…" She started to step out.

They pulled her back into their truck, laughing. "OK!" she giggled. "Joe and Frank." The others groaned.

Luz looked like Christmas was cancelled. "Mags?"

She smiled at him. "You too, of course, George."

"Rigged!" someone yelled.

She stuck her tongue at them. "He feeds me." They nodded, resigned. They all knew that to get to Margaret's heart, you needed to feed her.

* * *

Margaret, Liebgott, Perconte and Luz met Spiers in the front of the barricade. A box of grenades sat next to a launcher. Spiers motioned to the weapons; the grins on the faces of the soldiers widened.

"Mission is simple. Blow this away so we can drive up," said Spiers. He tipped his hat to them. "Gentlemen. Ma'am." He gave her a wink and left.

"Jesus Mags," said Luz. "I think Spiers has a thing for you."

Margaret scoffed and rolled her eyes. "He just likes a challenge. I have a feeling he and Helen may hit it off after this war." Liebgott and Perconte skipped over to the blockage, putting a small pile of grenades on the rocks.

Luz came to her side and said quietly. "And you? After this war, are you going to hit it off with another, unnamed, totally random officer?"

Margaret blushed deeply, but laughed. She handed him the grenade launcher. "Just blow some shit up, Luz."

Luz winked. "Yes, ma'am."

Margaret watched Luz and the guys have fun shooting, slowly chipping away at the barricade. She felt eyes on her and turned. Winters and Nixon were in a jeep watching them about twenty yards away. Her eyes met his and she blushed again. She gave him a small smile and then turned away.

* * *

Nixon saw Margaret smile towards them, but he knew it wasn't meant for him. Sure enough, he saw Winters smile back to her, and even blush faintly. Nixon wasn't sure, but his friend seemed to be in a better mood over the past month. _Wonder why that is_ , he smirked to himself.

He looked back to see Margaret turning from them, but her laugh radiated all the way back to their position when she witnessed Luz fumble with the grenade launcher. He watched Winters' smile deepen.

Nixon smiled as well. It was good to see his friend happy.

* * *

Winters saw her smile and he smiled back automatically. He felt a bit of heat on his neck when he remembered the last time they were together. They hadn't been alone since.

Winters knew that after Easy overtook the Eagle's Nest that the war would be over soon. What that meant for him and Margaret, he didn't know. He knew what he wanted, but after weeks of not even being able to speak, he wasn't sure what her thoughts were.

When he saw her blush, his unease diminished slightly. When this war was over, he was going to be straight with her and ask her. Her eyes never lied, and he was sure her tongue wouldn't hold back as well. With that thought, he smiled again when he heard her laugh.

* * *

Easy successfully removed the blockade and they drove up higher into the mountains. The town was draped white in mourning, and swastikas were strewn everywhere. At the end of the lane, they arrived to a huge hotel.

Winters, Nixon, Welsh and Spiers went in to the survey the building, coming back with pockets full of silver and ivory. Welsh announced to the troops that Fox company would perimeter the town and take any prisoners. Easy was heading to the Eagle's Nest.

Cheers erupted around Margaret. A few of the men couldn't wait for the trucks to pull slowly up the lane. They'd rather jog the 8,000 feet to the top, reminiscent of Currahee.

"Come on, Maggie," said Malarkey. "Join us!"

Margaret smiled, contemplating. "Are you guys crazy?"

Perconte smiled. "Of course we are!"

Margaret shook her head but jumped from the truck. She left her rifle with Luz, but kept her hand gun. "What the hell," she smiled.

After nearing the top, the small group including Spiers started dragging. "High Oh Silver!" yelled Margaret running past them. The men behind her grumbled. Spiers only shook his head in wonder at the crazy woman in front of him.

As the building came into view, any thoughts of exhaustion cleared from their minds. They were about to infiltrate Hitler's crown jewel. The trucks below them were still a few minutes behind. Spiers gave the nod and they raised their weapons, kicking the doors down.

Inside it was silent. They quickly canvassed the room, only finding one kraut dead by his own hand. A shot rang out - but it was only Malarkey opening a bottle of champagne. Margaret glared at him until he offered her the bottle. Grinning, she took it.

The trucks with the rest of Easy had arrived. The company secured the building within a matter of minutes. After that, the soldiers were free to roam and pillage what they wanted.

Margaret entered into a lavish bedroom, decorated with thick velvet curtains and a huge crystal chandelier. Malarkey was already in there, grabbing what liquor he could. He grinned to Margaret and continued.

She made her way towards the back corner of the room and found a deep closet. After turning on a light, she looked down row after row of fine silk gowns and thick furs. Wrinkling her nose, she turned to leave.

"Not to your taste?" Margaret nearly bumped into Winters. She stopped herself in time by placing her hands on his chest. She looked down as she felt his hard muscles under his shirt. Blushing, she quickly removed her hands.

Margaret cleared her throat. "Oh, no, sir. I'm not one for dead carcasses, even for fashion."

Winters laughed. "I would have to agree. Although I'm sure you'd somehow make it beautiful."

Margaret blushed again and both their eyes flicked to Malarkey, who was oblivious to them. They watched him leave the room, and they were alone.

Margaret started to sweat. "Did you find anything good?" she stuttered.

Winters watched her face, feeling her nerves in the air. The electricity crackled around them, and any doubt of her affection flew from his mind. He took a step closer to her, reading her eyes. "Maybe. I was wondering if you could help me."

Margaret watched him take a step forward. Her heart threatened to leave her chest. She couldn't stand being this close to him and not being able to touch him. She saw him pull something small from his pocket. He held it out to her in his palm.

Sitting there, sparkling against the light of the chandelier, was a beautiful diamond ring. She picked it up from his hand, brushing her fingertips in his palm. The contact was almost too much to bear. "It's extraordinary," she murmured. She looked at it in wonder.

Winters took a deep breath and stepped even closer to her. He took the ring from her and slid it onto her third finger of her left hand. "One day, I hope to give this to you right after you answer a question of mine."

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes flew to his. He nodded, smiling slightly. She continued to gape at him. "I can't wait for the day when I can ask if you'll allow me to love you forever, Margaret Henry."

A huge smile broke across her face. She leaned her face up to his and kissed him soundly on the lips. Winters wrapped his arms around her, about to deepen the embrace, when they heard someone clear their throat across the room.

They jumped apart to find a grinning Nixon staring at them. "Sorry to break up the, ahem, party, but Colonel Sink would like a word, Dick."

Winters pursed his lips at his friend, his handsome face scowling. He felt Margaret move next to him, and then a moment later she slipped the ring into his hand. With a squeeze of his fingers and a small grin, Margaret left the room. Nixon gave her a wink as she left that she tried very hard not to return.

Nixon turned back to Winters, still grinning evilly. Winters shook his head, but he couldn't keep the goofy smile from his face. He walked to Nixon, slapping a hand on his back. "For your silence, I have a present for you."

* * *

It turned out that Nixon received something better than the liquor cellar Winters found for him. Colonel Sink had the best news - the German forces had surrendered. The war was over.


	27. Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

No one wanted to leave Berchtesgaden. The soldiers enjoyed the lavish beds, rich foods and decadent liquors for a few days before they were told they were moving out. Everyone in her truck grumbled as they pulled away. They were sorry to leave.

That was, until they arrived to Zell Am See, Austria.

* * *

Surrounded by snow capped peaks and shining lakes, the troopers stared in wonder. And then the girls arrived. As soon as their trucks drove up the lane and into town, about a dozen pretty girls ran to greet them, waving and blowing kisses to them.

Margaret had never seen so many men move so quickly. Even after Bastogne and the daily mortar strikes. They lunged towards the ground when the truck stopped.

She spied Luz immediately flanked by two blondes, a huge grin on his face. Margaret chuckled and rolled her eyes. Alone in the truck, she grabbed her bag and walked towards headquarters for her room assignment.

* * *

As the days progressed, it became increasingly evident that the war may not be over for some. General Taylor announced that the 101st Airborne division would be redeployed to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. Those without at least 85 points were in danger of being sent out.

Spiers announced that everyone would begin training to go to war, even those with enough points. Dischargement was a slow process, and those safe still had to prepare. The mood around town was sour and grave. Not one soldier thought about the possibility of redeployment.

Margaret looked over at the men next to her. She had enough points to go home, after being wounded twice and with her battlefield commission. But what good was going home if her friends had to leave for another war? Her eyes scanned the faces of Garcia, Shifty, Luz, and even Roe. How could she leave her friends behind?

Then she thought of Winters. There was no doubt in her mind that he had enough points. Would he go home? Would she go with him?

* * *

Nixon and Welsh were joking on top of a veranda. The view before them was overlooking a crystal clear lake.

"How can I tell Kitty that I had the opportunity to come home to her, but didn't? No, I'm using my points. I'm going home," Welsh decided.

"And if she has run off with some intelligence soldier?" Nixon asked, sucking on a cigarette.

"You son of a bitch," Welsh laughed.

Winters walked up to them, unbuttoning his coat. "Don't listen to him, Harry. I bet Kitty can't wait for you to get home."

Welsh smiled his thanks before looking back down at the photo of her. Nixon smiled too. "Dick, mind if I use your footlocker again?" Winters rolled his eyes.

After Nixon finished packing Winters' footlocker to the brim with various wines and liquors. He turned to see his friend giving him an exasperated look. Nixon grinned to him. "For your silence, I have a gift for you." He held up keys in his hand.

* * *

"Lieutenant Henry!"

Margaret turned from going to dinner. She faced a young private who saluted her. She saluted back, her stomach growling. "Yes, what is it?"

The young man stuttered a moment before replying. "Major Winters needs you to report to the loading area, ma'am." He saluted again, unnecessarily, and left.

Margaret furrowed her brow. _Loading area?_

She arrived to the destination, walking by the empty trucks. Not spotting Winters, she watched the sun go down over the lake, the orange color sparkling across the water.

"Lieutenant Henry. Please follow me," Winters said behind her, making her jump. He smirked but hid it again, walking towards a jeep. He got in and leaned across, opening her door on the other side.

She got in without hesitation, but eyed him curiously. "Sir, can I ask where we are going?"

Winters grinned. "Someplace you don't have to call me 'sir.'" Margaret grinned back.

* * *

They arrived at a small cottage on the outskirts of town. Nothing surrounded them except trees and mountains.

Margaret stepped from the jeep. Winters held out his arm as they made their way to the door. He had the key, and easily turned it in the lock. They stepped inside.

Nerves were eating Margaret up. It had been several weeks since he came to her room that night. It was passionate and rushed and short-lived. And now here they were with only each other and plenty of time. Margaret's heart raced faster at the thought.

Winters closed the door behind them and removed his jacket. He looked over to her, frozen on the spot. Gently, he brushed a stray hair behind her ear. She just about jumped a mile. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

Margaret swallowed. "Sure." She paused as he opened a bottle. "But you don't drink."

He grinned. "That's right. But you look as if you could use one." She grinned slightly back, accepting the glass. Agitated, she took a large gulp. Her empty stomach protested violently.

Winters watched her from across the counter in the small kitchen. He walked over and took her hand and led her to the couch by a window overlooking the lake. They sat down, but he didn't let go of her hand. "Margaret, I have this room so that we can spend time together. However we spend that time is up to you."

Margaret looked into his eyes and relaxed. Her grip on the wine stem slackened a bit. "I don't know why I'm so jumpy," she admitted. "It's not like we… you know…"

Winters smiled softly to her. He brushed the stubborn piece of hair behind her ear again, but it was resilient. His eyes scanned the beautiful color. "May I?" She nodded. He reached over and removed the pins from her bun, allowing her hair to cascade over her shoulders. She watched as the blue of his eyes darkened. She took another big gulp of wine.

Winters ran his fingers through her soft hair, admiring the way the color shimmered in the light. He saw her eyes look down at his lips a moment before he leaned forward and softly brushed them against hers. She took a breath, and he pulled away again, fingers still playing in her hair.

"See?" he murmured. "I can control myself around you if I really put my mind to it."

Margaret cocked an eyebrow, the wine fueling a sudden wind of bravery. _Oh really?_ she thought. She placed her wine glass on the table and bent to remove her boots. She stood in her bare feet as Winters followed her with his eyes, his expression bemused.

She walked towards the hallway next to the kitchen and turned back to him. Her eyebrow still raised and a defiant smile on her lips, she began to remove her clothing. Winters could only gape as she removed layer after layer until she was down to only her bra and underwear. Staring him straight in the eye, she removed those.

Margaret stepped from her clothing, proudly standing naked in front of him even though her mind was screaming to cover up. She smirked to him. "Are you coming?" She turned and sauntered to the bathroom.

Winters heard the water of the shower turn on for a moment before he scrambled to his feet. He walked quickly to the bathroom door and caught a glimpse of a bare leg a moment before she was completely in the shower. Another moment and a grin later, and he rid himself of his clothes in record time.

* * *

Margaret leaned back after Winters fed her another piece of cheese. "Dear God in heaven, I'm the most happy woman," she crooned, looking down at him. She laid on her back, only a thin sheet covering her body. A very naked and grinning Winters laid his head on her belly, his body perpendicular to her own.

He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth. "Glad I could be of service, ma'am."

Margaret smirked. "What service? I was talking about the cheese. It's delicious!"

Winters turned quickly, tickling her sides. She shrieked, crying for mercy. He eventually obliged, returning to his original position.

She caught her breath and ran her fingers through his hair. They were silent for a long time, just enjoying each other. Moonlight shone brightly through the window, creating a magical auror.

She cleared her throat. "Dick?"

"Hmm?" he replied, his eyes closed and his breath deepening. Margaret cleared her throat nervously again. Winters looked up to her, confused at her blushed cheeks. "What is it, love?"

She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to find the words. "Well, speaking of, well, service…. No, that's not the right word. Um, when you, well, when you did…"

Winters found her absolutely adorable in that moment. He twisted onto his belly and crawled to lean his body parallel along hers. He leaned over and kissed her soundly on the lips. "Spit it out, Margaret."

She sighed and took a deep breath. _You asked for it_. "Right before we slept together the first time, you did something to me, well I guess _for_ me, that I still haven't been able to wrap my head around."

Winters was silent, utterly confused. Margaret huffed, frustrated at his lack of understanding. "You kissed me." He was still lost. "Down there," she added in a whisper.

Recognition filled Winters' face a moment before he chuckled. She smacked him in the shoulder. "Don't laugh at me. I have no idea what to call that...that…"

He raised one eyebrow. "Fraternization?"

She giggled. "I'm sure there's a more romantic term than that." He chuckled and she smacked his shoulder again. "But really." She grew quiet again. "That was new for me. Is it...is it just a one time thing? Or can a girl expect a repeat occurrence?"

Winters laughed loudly now, chuckling into her stomach. She felt his growing whiskers scratch her skin through the sheet.

She smacked him hard again but grinned sheepishly. "Stop laughing. You forced this out of me, remember?"

He cocked an eyebrow playfully again. "Oh, I did? Forced you, did I?" She nodded vehemently. "I wonder what else I could force you to do."

He slid down her body and flipped up the sheet by her feet. He burrowed underneath then started to make his way back up her body with his lips.

She sighed happily, opening her legs to him. His mouth found her center, sucking and nibbling on the tender flesh. She gasped when she felt his finger enter her. His thumb rubbed along an extra sensitive spot and she moaned loudly. She could feel the build up happening inside. Right before the fire started burning, he stopped. Eyes opening wide, she looked down.

"Say 'uncle,'" she heard him say beneath the cover.

She moved the sheets from them and gaped at him. There was an evil glint in his eyes. "Say 'uncle,'" he repeated.

Margaret harrumphed and wiggled under him. Whining she begged him to continue. He raised his eyebrows, waiting. Rolling her eyes but she couldn't keep the smile from her face. "Uncle," she muttered.

She didn't regret her surrender.

* * *

"You're going to kill me, woman." Winters flopped onto his back, sweat glistening his body. Margaret immediately wrapped her body to his side, counting the freckles on his chest, her new favorite game.

She giggled. "I thought a soldier was supposed to have stamina."

"Margaret, the sun is starting to rise. Not that I'm complaining, but we haven't stopped since it set," he said playfully, rubbing a hand up and down her arm.

She giggled again. "If you're giving up, I guess that means I won." She sat up and straddled his hips between hers. "For my prize, I'm going to take what's mine." She leaned down and kissed him sweetly, gently yanking on his dog tags.

Their kiss turned deeper and he suddenly flipped them over until he was on top of her. Winters looked deep into her eyes before kissing her softly. "For the record, I'm always the winner. I have you."

* * *

Winters wasn't exaggerating when he said that the sun was rising. After only a short snooze for a few hours, they forced themselves out of bed. As they rode back into town, Margaret noticed that he became quiet.

They arrived to a mostly empty loading station. He grabbed her hand and tugged her into the neighboring barn. Pulling her to him, he kissed her long and deep.

Margaret broke away eventually, grinning. "Be careful, Dick. A goodbye kiss like that may end up with dire consequences."

He chuckled, but she noticed that the laughter didn't reach his eyes. Margaret placed a hand on his cheek. "What is it?"

Winters sighed, holding her hand to his face. "I applied for a transfer to the 13th airborne. They leave for the pacific immediately."

Margaret drew back her hand and stepped away. He sighed again, putting his hands into his pockets. "If I'm going, I want to get it over with. This is the fastest way there."

Angry tears built up in her eyes, blinding her. "And who the fuck says you're definitely going, huh? Just because the 101st is being redeployed, that doesn't mean we will actually see action. It's going to take months before we'd fly out." She stepped up to him close, sneering. "And by that time, you could be dead," she spat.

Winters took a deep breath. "Margaret, the war isn't over. I have to do my part."

"You don't have to do shit. You chose this, Dick. Be a man and admit that at least."

He sighed. "OK. I chose this. "

He watched as the tears finally spilled over and ran down her cheeks. He moved to comfort her but she pulled back. With a sob, she ran from the barn and out of sight.


	28. The Three G's

Roe's eyes watched Margaret pace back and forth in the small garden. A worn trail in the grass was beginning to form under her feet. With her head bent, she continued to mutter to herself, rigid with anger.

Luz walked up to them and flopped down on the ground next to Roe. He lazily laid on his side and lit two cigarettes, handing one to his friend. Roe tipped his chin up in thanks before taking a drag.

Luz pointed to Margaret. "How long's this been going on?"

They watched her continue her solitary tirade. She didn't even seem to notice Luz's arrival.

Roe pursed his lips. "About an hour. She and Winters had a fight."

Luz nodded. "Yeah, I heard."

That made Margaret stop. She turned towards them, her eyes flashing. "What did you hear?"

Luz held up a hand. "Hold on, scary lady. Your little love affair isn't common knowledge. Still just me and Doc here owning the pleasure of playing girlfriends to you." She rolled her eyes hard. "But if you continue to smooch in a common area barn, you might not be so lucky."

Margaret gave him a look to explain or suffer the consequences. Luz sat up and held up another hand, scooting back a bit. "It's not my fault you two walked in on my beauty sleep. I had the barn to myself, and I was minding my own business in the hayloft before I heard you two smack lips."

Roe looked at him curiously. "What were you doing sleeping in a hayloft?"

Luz had the decency to blush. "Greta, Greta and I had a sleepover." He grinned devilishly.

Roe raised an eyebrow. "They're both named Greta?"

Luz shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe."

They turned to see her start pacing again. "Anyway," he continued, "you can imagine my horror when my best friend and my commanding battalion officer come in and start playing grab fanny." He leaned towards Roe and hissed, " _Awkward._ "

He leaned back onto his side again while Roe chuckled. "Luckily, that's when he decided to tell her he's shipping out. That put an end to any funny business pretty fast." As soon as Luz finished, he could feel the daggers of her eyes on him.

"Lucky? Oh yes, George," she hissed. "Lucky for you, he decided to tell me that he was leaving for war again. Lucky for you, first he made sure to sweep me off my goddamn feet. And lucky for you, George Luz," she said, her face flushed and livid, her voice cracking, "he broke my fucking heart just in time for you to get back to Greta and fucking Greta."

She turned from them and resumed pacing. Luz gaped at her before turning to Roe. He got a look that clearly said, _What did you expect?_

Luz sighed and got to his feet. Roe followed suit and they walked over to her. Roe gently stopped her pacing with hands on her shoulders. She froze, and then the fire left her all at once.

Margaret felt their arms catch her as her knees gave out. The three of them remained in the garden for a long time until all her tears ran dry.

* * *

"Are you fucking kidding me?" said Nixon. He watched Winters pace back in forth in his apartment. There wasn't enough VAT69 in all of Austria for him to deal with this drama.

"Yeah, she just ran off before I could explain that I haven't even met with General Chapman yet," Winters replied, rubbing his cheek with a hand.

Nixon shook his head. "Not her, my sorry friend. Why the hell would you tell her _after_ spending an entire night doing, what I would hope would be, the hanky panky?"

"Please, God, don't call it that."

Nixon grinned. "OK, grab fanny it is." He stood and stopped his friend from wearing a hole into the rug. "My point is, it's your timing. Yes, you requested a transfer, and that would be hard enough for her. But telling her after spending an entire night together? After you two have been eye-fucking each other for over a year? Man, that's harsh."

Winters frowned, his stomach dropping. Nixon gave him a bracing look. "You're a smart man, Dick. But by God, that was really stupid."

Winters worriedly looked back at him, nodding. _Have I ruined everything?_

* * *

Over the next several days, Margaret's mood remained dark. The men associated the change to the possibility of going to Japan. They couldn't blame her - the idea created a dark storm of emotion in all of them.

The entire battalion waited for orders. Spiers had them training daily, but only for a few hours at a time. Easy company found themselves with too much time on their hands and too much booze to wile that time away.

The war was done in Europe, but still death managed to find its way to them. Janovec was killed in a jeep accident. Margaret watched as they loaded his body into a truck. A rock of regret was heavy in her stomach.

Grant was shot in the head by a drunk trooper from another company. Margaret had never seen Spiers so angry when he found the assailant. She was impressed that the Captain didn't murder the man in cold blood; her anger at the time made it feel justified.

But Grant was going to live. Spiers and Roe hunted the village until they found a kraut brain surgeon.

Margaret watched all their relieved faces and a small piece of her started to understand Winters' decision. If the men of the 13th airborne were even a fraction as good as these men, then they deserved the help of a strong leader like him. If Easy did eventually get called to the pacific, Margaret had made a decision.

Roe stepped up to her side. He studied her face as she watched her family in front of her. "You're going to go with Easy, aren't you?" He could read her so well.

She nodded, turning her eyes towards him. "How else am I going to keep Luz out of trouble?" They laughed and she took his hand. "Or who would keep you company in a foxhole? You're my family. I can't leave you."

Roe stared at her. "There's no use in trying to talk you out of it, is there?"

Margaret smiled and shook her head. "Nope, so save your breath. You're stuck with me."

* * *

"So why do you want to leave your company, Major?" asked General Chapman from behind his desk.

Winters cleared his throat. "It's not that, sir. There's still a war in the pacific, and I want to do my part and help where I can."

Chapman studied his notes on Winters, surveying his many accomplishments. He peered back over his papers. "It seems you've done quite a bit already." Winters was quiet. "Are you looking to move up?"

Winters shook his head. "No, sir."

Chapman looked at his notes again. "Hell of a thing, to leave your company. You may even be sent over with them if you wait a few months." Winters was silent again, torn.

Chapman stood. "I'm going to deny the transfer, Dick. Unless you give me a better reason to send you back to the warfront, I think it's best you stay with the 101st. They need you."

Winters also stood and saluted the General. Chapman saluted back and sighed. "Get going then. And pray your regiment stays put on this side of the world."

* * *

Winters left the office and drove back to the assembly. His trip was quiet and he became deep in thought.

Although he knew he should feel disappointed by the denial, he didn't. He felt relief. Not just because he wasn't going back to war or that he wasn't leaving Margaret and his men, but because General Chapman told him that he had done enough, that his work was through.

He heard Margaret in his head, teasing him for being the ideal soldier. Her face swam into his vision. Shifting gears, Winters hit the gas, eager to get back.

When he arrived, he jumped from the jeep, hardly putting it into park. His pace quick, he searched through the various soldiers in the square. Lunch must have just ended. He could hardly make his way through.

"Dick! Hey, Dick!" He heard Nixon cry. Winters stopped but still his eyes roamed through the crowd.

"Hey Nix. Have you seen Margaret?"

Nixon shook his head. "She wasn't at lunch. Never a good sign. That woman can eat."

Winters gave him a short smile, but still didn't stop to look at him. Nixon sighed impatiently. "So?"

"So what?"

Nixon sighed again, stepping into Winters' line of sight. "So are you transferred?"

Winters finally stopped looking for her. He looked to his friend and gave him a slow grin. "No. Denied."

Nixon whooped, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I knew I always liked General Chapman best. He's smart enough to tell a soldier when he's being stupid." Winters grinned again.

"How do you feel about New Jersey?" Nixon asked.

Winters cocked his head, confused. "New Jersey? What's there?"

Nixon shrugged. "A little town called Nixon, home of Nixon Nitration Plant. I know the owners and they're looking for some help."

Winters eyes narrowed, a grin spreading across his face. "Are you offering me a job?"

Nixon grinned back. "Well, we'll see how you do on your interview, but I heard your references are stellar."

The two friends continued to grin at each other until Winters chuckled and shook his head in wonder. "You always manage to surprise me, Nix."

"So is that a yes?"

Winters smiled and shrugged. "I'll think about it."

Nixon smiled back and then slapped him on the back. "Why are you still here? Go to her."

* * *

Winters continued to search for Margaret over the next hour to no avail. Finally almost giving up, he ran into Roe.

"Doc, have you seen Margaret?"

Roe stopped and looked at him, a dark scowl on his face. "Not for awhile, sir."

Winters sighed. "Do you know where she went?"

Roe hesitated. He was an honest man and a loyal soldier. Lying to his commanding officer wasn't something he was used to. "I can't be sure, sir," he said stiffly.

Winters looked at Roe closer and took in his hard eyes. He frowned. "She told you what happened, I take it."

Roe hesitated again before nodding. "Yes, sir."

Winters swallowed, lost on his next steps. Roe continued. "I don't think it's wise for you to see her again, sir."

"Is she that angry with me?"

Roe nodded. "She is but she's more broken-hearted than anything." He paused and the added, "But I don't think it's wise for you to see her, sir, because if you hurt her again, there may be a revolt."

Winters froze at the serious tone and expression of Roe, but he smiled sadly. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "If I told you that I need to see her to tell her that I've been an idiot and to beg for her forgiveness, would that help diminish the threat of a mutiny?"

Roe paused but then gave Winters a small grin. "I think if you add in a little groveling, sir, you've got yourself a deal."

Winters chuckled and smiled. Roe nodded his approval. "She went for a run a few hours ago. She likes the trail around the south side of the lake."

Winters clapped him in the shoulder. "Thank you, Eugene." He immediately started jogging towards the lake.

"And sir?" Winters turned back to Roe. "Good luck. She's still pretty mad."


	29. Child's Play

Margaret had to stop. She bent at the waist trying to take air into her lungs. She had no idea how long she had been running, but it felt like hours. Her tshirt was sticky against her chest and her PT shorts had started to rub against her thighs. But still she had kept running until her lungs finally resisted.

She looked up, still bent over, to look out. She happened to be at a small jetty with stairs leading into the water. Margaret knew that meant she was close to town, but she didn't feel like heading back yet.

Stretching her wobbly legs, she walked out onto the jetty to the end. The water looked deep and inviting. She crouched to remove her boots before dipping a toe in. Margaret looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was around before stripping down to her bra and underwear. She took a breath and dove.

The water was cooler than she expected, but it felt wonderful. Under the water, she felt the pins pull from her hair and the bun collapsed. She stayed under as long as possible before surfacing. Lying on her back, she floated, trying to take in the majestic beauty before her, but her mind wandered. Cursing herself, she tried to relax.

* * *

Winters came to the first place he knew near the lake. He came here every morning for a swim. He didn't expect to find her right away, but he did. Hidden in the shadows, he saw her breathing heavily bent at the waist. Her hair was matted in sweat on her head and her lean legs were red.

He was frozen to the spot. It had only been a few days, but he missed her. Seeing her again, alone, it made his heart skip a beat, but he was also frozen in dread. He didn't know how this conversation would go. He hoped they could both keep a level head.

He watched as she walked to the jetty all the way to the end. She stretched a long leg into the water, testing the temperature. He caught a glimpse of her face for a moment before she turned back towards the water. In a flash, she took off her shirt, and shorts before diving in.

She was under for a long time. Too long for his nerves, but then she resurfaced. He looked at her floating on the water for long time before walking to the edge of the lake. Not wanting to disturb her solitude, he waited.

After several minutes, her head popped back up. She had her back to him, surveying the mountains. He took a deep breath. "Margaret?" he called.

She startled, turning towards him instantly. He thought he saw a flash of happiness on her face a moment before she seemed to remember her anger at him. Her eyes turned dark. She didn't answer.

Winters chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Can you come back here, please?"

"No."

He winced and shuffled his boot in the dirt. "Please? I really need to talk to you."

Margaret glared at him. "Is Eugene ok?"

Winters' brow furrowed, confused. "Yes, Doc is fine."

"And George? George is OK?"

"Yes, Luz is remarkably well as usual."

"And all the other men?" Winters sighed. She raised her voice, drowning him out. "Everyone else is alive and well?"

"Yes, Margaret."

"OK then. I'll stay here, thank you."

Margaret knew she was being childish, but she couldn't help it. Her anger hadn't abated to a safe level yet, and she was worried about what she would say to Winters if she was alone with him. He had hurt her, and although she currently hated him for it, she didn't want to hurt him as well. Her tongue was both a gift and curse. _More often than not a curse_ , she thought sourly.

She watched as he sighed again. "I can wait you out."

Margaret clenched her teeth, knowing without having to look that there wasn't any other easy exit out of the water. _Stupid lake_. "As can I," she said stubbornly.

Winters took a deep breath, his patience evaporating. She had only seen him angry twice before in the two years she'd known him: once at Guarnere for disobeying orders and once when Dike almost got all of Easy killed.

Winters stretched the tight muscles in his jaw. "Lieutenant Henry, come out of that water, now."

He could see the fury in her eyes flash from here. "You did _not_ just pull that card, Dick." Winters knew it was the wrong move. He could practically see her resolve hardening even more. "You've always been the better soldier," she seethed. "Go to hell."

Winters ran his hands through his hair, tugging in frustration. He was a stubborn man, but he was pudding compared to Margaret Henry. She would rather freeze in that water all night rather than come out to meet him. He sighed, resigned on what he needed to do next.

He walked up the jetty, kneeling on one knee to removed one boot, and then switching to the other. He took off his uniform jacket and folded it neatly on the stone.

Margaret watched him through narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?"

He replied calmly, "Coming in to get you." He removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

She huffed. "Like hell you are." But she watched him start on his pants quietly. To her astonishment and anger, her body began to respond at the sight. _Traitor_ , she thought mutinously.

Winters folded his pants next to his shirt and jacket before pulling his tshirt over his head. He looked over to Margaret and raised his eyebrows, clad in only his boxers and dog tags. "Last chance."

Margaret only glared at him. He shrugged and dove into the water. At the same moment, she tried to swim for the stairs on the jetty to make her escape. She felt a hand clamp on her ankle and draw her back, right as her fingertips scraped the concrete.

"Let go of me!" she yelled, thrashing. He let go instantly, but he had her trapped between the jetty wall and himself with no opportunity to escape. _Gives new meaning to the phrase 'between a rock and a hard place,'_ she thought. A giggle bubbled inside her, but she pushed it back down.

Winters cocked an eyebrow. "Can we talk now?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I have nothing to say."

"Well, I would like to say something."

She turned to him, an angry glare in her eyes. "Don't you think you've said enough?"

Winters tried very hard not to roll his eyes. She was being a child. He sucked on his teeth until he could breathe normally. "Margaret, I…" He didn't have a chance to finish.

Margaret bit her lip, angry words bubbling at the surface. She tried so hard to keep them down. When he opened his mouth again ( _probably to add some other bullshit_ ) she snapped. She splashed him in the face.

Winters' shocked expression at being splashed with water by a grown woman would be something Margaret would never forget for all her days. She couldn't help what came from her mouth now.

Laughter burst from her lungs and all the way down from her stomach. She roared, tears in her eyes, her ribs hurting in pain. She could hardly stand, she was laughing harder than she could ever remember.

Winters' shock was short lived. He closed his gaping mouth and watched her dissolve into laughter in front of him. He couldn't help it; he grinned. When she raised her eyes to the sky, trying to catch her breath, he struck. He pushed an entire armload of water at her, soaking her instantly. She became immediately silent.

They watched each other, prowling on their position, waiting to see who would be the first to strike. At the same time, they both began their attack.

Pushing water back and forth, they screeched and giggled until both were out of breath from laughter. Winters made his way closer to her. He snatched her wrists in his hands, causing her to still.

Margaret stood, her chest heaving, her hair wet and at every angle. She tried to catch her breath, but her heart was running away without her. She looked up to him, a defiant look back in her eyes.

With an angry growl of his own, he dove. Winters pushed Margaret back with his body until they hit the barrier of the jetty. With her wrists still clenched in his fingers, he pinned them on the wall on either side of her. He snatched her lips with his own.

His kiss punished her for her smart mouth, for stubbornly staying in the water, hell, for making him love her.

Every part of Winters pressed against her body, causing it to respond instantly. She arched her back to try and get closer to him. Fighting for her hands, he reluctantly released her wrists and she wrapped her arms around his neck with a sigh.

He grabbed at her rear, hitching her legs up and around his hips. Pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth, she whimpered. Winters would later recall this moment was when he lost his mind.

Margaret kicked her heels at the edge of his boxers, attempting to pull them down without breaking contact with his body. She felt his hand slide down between them in the water and a moment later her underwear was torn away as if it were paper. Winters nudged his own down and in the next instant, he entered her hard.

They both gasped at the sensation, breaking the kiss to stop for a moment. Margaret looked him in the eyes and he began to move again.

Stroke after stroke, delicious tension built. Margaret could fee herself tightening and she clawed her nails into his shoulders. Fire burned throughout her and she felt him shudder.

Their pace slowed. They looked back to each other, smiling softly. Margaret gave him a gentle kiss on his bruised lips.

Winters lifted her off him and they both crouched in the water, sitting on the bottom step of the jetty. He reached for her hand and she let him, lacing her fingers through his.

He turned to her, his eyes still dark. "That's not why I came out to get you."

Margaret grinned, a devilish twinkle in her eyes. "Can you remember why you did? Does it matter?"

Winters laughed and hugged her to him, his fingers tracing the soft skin of her shoulder. "It's a bit foggy, but I do remember, actually."

Margaret was quiet, bracing herself for what he was about to say. She took a deep breath, ready.

Winters saw the resolve in her eyes, and his heart broke to see that she was expecting bad news. He promised himself that he would never hurt her again. "I'm staying here."

Margaret's breath caught in her throat. He continued. "I don't want us to keep anything from one another. So I want you to know that when I met with the General, I still requested the transfer."

She swallowed, trying to accept what he was saying. She nodded for him to continue. "He could see right through me, that my heart wasn't in it. He told me that I did my part. That what I did was enough and that the Army didn't need anything else from me."

He stopped. "Then I heard your voice in the head. One time you were teasing me that I was always the stoic soldier. Always followed the rules." He chuckled. "Nix has been telling me the same thing for years, but it was your voice that I heard." He looked her in her eyes. "Then he denied me the transfer and I was so relieved. I could only think of finding you."

Margaret expected tears to swim her eyes but she remained dry. She swallowed hard before kissing him softly on the lips. Winters waited for a response. "So, are you still angry with me?"

She smiled and kissed him again. "Absolutely." He raised his eyebrows, waiting. She gave him the sternest look she could muster. "You tore my underwear."

Winters leaned his head back and chuckled. Kissing her again, he reached up and brought her PT shorts to her to put on under the water. They retrieved the rest of their clothes from the jetty before walking to the lane. They didn't say much, but stole a kiss here and there, holding hands, giggling like school children.

Right before they were about to round the bend into the town, Winters leaned her up against a tree to kiss her deeply. Lost in one another, they didn't hear the jeep arrive.

"Major Winters. Lieutenant Henry."

They startled and jumped apart at Colonel Sink's voice. They turned to the scowling commander. He looked at both of them before zeroing in on Margaret.

"Lieutenant Henry. Get yourself cleaned up and be outside my office in 15 minutes." He drove off without another word.

Horrified, they looked at each other.


	30. Sink Said What

"I should have you dishonorably discharged, Lieutenant."

Sink stared at her erect form in front of his desk. The color from her face had drained away, but she stood steady with her eyes straight ahead. He grumbled, "Major Winters too, at that."

Sink sat down. He motioned for her to do the same. He sighed tiredly. "The U.S. Army is the finest goddamn establishment this country has to offer. Honor, respect, and discipline are the pinnacles that make it successful. Do you agree?"

"Yes, sir."

Sink sighed again, rubbing his eyes. "Throughout your time in my regiment, you have shown bravery, class, and leadership beyond what I could hope for, Margaret. I have watched you grow, and I am proud to say that I have known you."

Margaret blinked, unsure where this was going. _Was this goodbye?_ "Thank you, sir."

Sink looked at her grimly. "Your actions today are not a reflection of what I would deem appropriate in my company of soldiers. Especially Easy company. I expect that this will not continue, at least not until the war with Japan is over."

Margaret's eyes widened. "Sir?"

Sink gave her a small smile. "If the 101st is sent to fight, I may have to consider transferring you, but in the meantime, quit playing grab fanny with Winters until the japs surrender, OK?

She could hardly believe it. One moment she thought she was going to be sent to prisoner, or at the very least thrown from the Army, and now Sink was making jokes about grab fanny. "Yes, sir." He nodded to her. She recognized the dismissal. She turned to go.

"Oh, and Margaret?" She turned back to him, cringing, waiting for the real punishment. But she found a softened expression on his face. "He's treating you well?"

Margaret let out the breath she was holding and smiled. "Yes, sir. Major Winters is the epitome of a gentleman."

He nodded again and smiled. "He's a good man." He paused and winked. "Excellent choice." He waved her away.

Margaret walked out and closed the door behind her. She realized she was holding her breath again, and only one thought came to her mind. _Sink just said 'grab fanny.'_

* * *

Winters was waiting outside the building when she came out walking towards the center of town. The shocked expression on her face made his stomach drop. "Margaret," he said. A few soldiers walked nearby. "Lieutenant Henry, wait up."

She continued to walk until they were in the infamous barn again. "Margaret, what is going on?" She turned to him, her eyes wide. "Tell me. Did he kick you out? Why didn't he discipline both of us? I knew you'd get the brunt of any consequence. I'm going in there."

Margaret shook her head, her eyes still wide. Winters furrowed his brow. "What does that mean? Speak, please."

She opened and closed her mouth a few times without saying anything. Finally in a rushed murmur she said, "No more grab fanny."

Winters looked at her like she lost her mind. "No more grab fanny," he repeated. She nodded violently, happy he finally understood what she was trying to say. "That makes no sense."

Frustrated at his lack of understanding, she took a deep breath. Her voice finally seemed to connect with her brain. "Those were his words. No more grab fanny. He wants us to keep our hands to ourselves until the Japanese surrender. Oh, and I think he'll court martial you if you aren't good to me."

Winters' mind went blank for a long time. Finally shaking his head, "Sink used the term 'grab fanny'?" She nodded. "Why does that phrase keep coming up?"

They nodded together. "Luz."

They came to the realization at the same time that neither were leaving Austria. Hugging her to him, he sighed, thanking God for small miracles. She pulled back, wagging a finger at him. "Think you can behave?"

Winters scoffed. "Me? You're the one who can't keep her hands to herself."

Margaret opened her mouth to protest, but realized he was right. "Damn."

* * *

Easy company continued to enjoy their summer in peace, although they grew increasingly anxious about the possibility of redeployment. Spiers had increased their training; it felt like they were repeating Toccoa all over again. It's been over a year since their jump into Normandy. No one knew when they'd see home again.

The weather grew hotter as July faded into August. The troopers were playing a game of baseball, which became almost a daily ritual after Spiers was finished with them. Margaret grew bored quickly, sitting in the grass at her position in right field.

Luz looked over his shoulder from first base and called to her. "Get that sweet ass of yours up, Mags. Bull is batting next."

Margaret sighed and hauled herself to her feet. She tried to fan herself with her glove. "It's too damn hot for baseball."

The men closest around her hissed. The memories of their past winter in Bastogne and Foy were still very clear. There was no such thing as too hot.

Randleman came up to the plate, chewing on a cigar. He narrowed his eyes at Perconte, the pitcher, before swinging and hitting the first ball thrown at him. Margaret lazily watched it fly over her head and over the fence behind her. She looked to Luz and shrugged innocently as Randleman ran the bases.

They saw Spiers a moment before he yelled for them to come over to him. "Easy company! To me!"

Margaret jogged to Luz before they headed to a parked jeep together. They found Welsh, Nixon, and Winters with Spiers. Margaret caught Winters' eye and winked. He tried very hard to keep a grin from his face.

Winters turned to the group. "OK, listen up. I have news." The men and Margaret grew silent and still. They couldn't read the Major's face on whether this would be good or bad for Easy.

He took a deep breath for continuing. "Last night, the United States was given the full and unconditional surrender by Japan."

Cheers erupted around Margaret. Luz pulled her into a deep hug, lifting her from her feet as he cried out. Man after man hugged one another, slapping each other on the back. For Easy it was D-Day plus 434. The war was finally over. They were to head home.

Margaret was quickly surrounded in a group of guys. She kissed their cheeks and laughed with them, but her eyes were searching for one man in particular. Although tall for a girl, she couldn't see over the heads of the crowd around her.

Winters was quickly overcome by Spiers, Nixon and Welsh. Lipton joined them, hugging one another in congratulations and relief. Nixon pulled a pack from his jacket revealing expensive cigars. He batted away hands before announcing that he was having a party in his quarters.

Winters tried to search for Margaret, but she had disappeared among everyone else. He felt a tug on his sleeve as Welsh pulled him with the others following Nixon. It looked as though he'd have to wait to see her.

* * *

Winters didn't see Margaret that day, or the next. After the third day of being stuck in his apartment and chained to his desk, he leaned his forehand down on the sleek wood, pushing aside a stack of paper.

A knock came to his door. "Come in."

Nixon walked in and grinned when he saw Winters slumped over the desk. "Didn't you hear, Dick? The japs surrendered. You don't have to be at the mercy of paperwork anymore."

Winters snorted but sat up. "Tell that to Colonel Sink. If I see his messenger one more time with another folder, I may just about lose it."

Nixon chuckled. "Sounds like he's punishing you for something."

Winters thought sourly, _He probably is_.

Nixon sat down beside him, lighting a cigarette. "Well your pain is everyone else's gain." He took a puff. "Entire regimental party a week from today. Apparently he even pulled out his own wallet for this one."

Winters whistled and then nodded. "Good. The troopers have reason to celebrate. They deserve it, especially since it looks like it will still be a few weeks before we head home." He gestured to the paperwork.

Nixon smiled. "Well, keep at it. Nixon Nitration is calling for us."

Winters smiled. "I still haven't accepted the job."

Nixon stood and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Yeah, but you're going to. Then I can low-ball you on a salary offer."

Winters chuckled but shook his head. "I need to tie up a few loose ends, first."

"Not sure how Margaret would feel about being called a loose end."

Winters grinned again, shrugging off Nixon's hand. "You know what I mean."

Nixon shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. "Well, what did she say after the news broke? That we were finally getting out of here?"

Winters chewed his lip. "I haven't spoken to her yet."

Nixon sat down again, bemused. "What? Like at all?" Winters shrugged. "Jesus, man, do I have to do everything for you? When was the last time you two spoke?"

Winters sighed. He reflected over the last few weeks since Sink's meeting with her. They hadn't been alone since, although they did sneak in a brief touch of a hand here and there. "Not since Sink."

Nixon took a deep breath and let it go slowly, his patience waning. "The war is over, Dick. Even by Sink's rules, you're allowed to get the girl now. What the hell are you waiting for?" Winters gave him an exasperated look, motioning to the papers again. "Jesus Christ." Nixon looked at his watch.

Nixon stood again, but dragged Winters with him. "Listen, it's close to seven. I just saw her in the dining hall. By now she's probably finished. I overheard Roe ask her to visit the garden with him. For the love of all that is holy, take a break for once, and go to her."

Winters took a breath in annoyance but then realized Nixon was right. The paperwork could wait, even if he had to stay up all night to finish it. It was time to see her.

* * *

Margaret was finishing up her second helping of potatoes with Luz. Roe had just left them to take a walk. He had been doing that a lot lately, but she noticed it was always in the same direction of the local bakery. She had seen once a pretty girl that worked there. Margaret smiled to herself. She hoped her friend would divulge to her soon about this potential love interest.

Luz watched Margaret pile more potatoes into her mouth. "Jesus, woman. Where does it go?"

Margaret gave him a wink. "To that ass you so admire."

Luz cackled. "In that case, keep at it." He glanced at his watch. "I'm meeting Martin at 7 for some poker." Margaret wrinkled her nose. She found out she wasn't very good at poker since she tried in France. Her face gave her hand away every time. The guys loved playing with her, but she was tired of losing all her stuff.

Luz grinned. "Don't worry, you're not invited." Margaret mock pouted before taking another heaping forkful of potatoes. "What are you doing tonight? Finally going to find your soldier in shining camo?"

Margaret rolled her eyes. "He's probably busy." She paused, wondering if it really was true or if he was avoiding her for some reason. This hot and cold with him was driving her crazy. She knew he didn't do it on purpose; they weren't allowed to be near each other. But it had been weeks since she'd even been able to say anything more than a good morning to him. And then the japanese have finally surrendered - where was he?

Luz rolled his eyes back at her. "Mags, I don't want to put down my own sex, but we are sometimes a bit slow, especially when it comes to women."

Margaret dropped her fork and gaped at him in mock astonishment. "No. Way."

Luz couldn't help it, he chuckled at her dramatics. "So maybe you should go to him. Make the first move." Margaret chewed on her bottom lip. He clapped her on the shoulder. "I heard Lipton say something to Winters about checking out the garden after dinner. I saw him leave about ten minutes ago. Why don't you see if you can catch him?"

Margaret nodded silently, thinking. She looked up and grinned to Luz. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll go see if he's there. Couldn't hurt, right?"

He shook his head, a grin forming. "Couldn't hurt."

* * *

Winters found the garden near the edge of the forest. It was a beautiful and secluded place, lined by thick trees and plentiful arrays of flowers. Expecting to see at least Roe with her, he was pleasantly surprised to only find Margaret. Seeing a grove of orange day lilies to his right, he picked one and walked towards her.

Margaret heard footsteps behind her. To her happy surprise, Winters was there and he was alone. She gave him a shy smile. "Fancy finding you here." He grinned and stopped in front of her. He held the lily to her and watched her smile grow. She took it, breathing in the sweet scent. "It's beautiful, thank you, Dick."

Winters couldn't take his eyes off her. She placed the lily behind her ear, framing her face. Her brown eyes danced with amusement and what he could only describe as affection. He placed a hand on her cheek. She leaned into it. "I'm sorry I haven't found you before now. Sink has been keeping me busy, but that's no excuse."

Margaret resisted the urge to nuzzle her cheek deeper into his hand. "I'm not surprised. He knew the worst punishment for you would be paperwork," she teased.

He chuckled and just continued to stare into her eyes. Now that they could be together, he didn't know how to move forward. "Are you looking forward to going home?"

She nodded, but frowned slightly. "Yes, but I'm worried I might get a little lost."

He furrowed his brow, confused. "Lost?"

Margaret nodded slowly, taking his other hand in hers. "Yes. I mean, I'm not sure where I will be going. Where is home? Is back to my folks in Maine?" She paused, taking a deep breath. _Don't back down now, girl_. "Or maybe Pennsylvania...?" She met his eyes, trying to keep her tone light, but her nerves made her stagger a bit.

Winters watched a little fear mix with the bravery in her eyes. He stepped closer to her, feeling the heat of her body against him. His hand on her cheek moved deeper to behind her head. "How do you feel about New Jersey?"

Of all the things she was expecting might come from his mouth, this was definitely not one of them. "As in the state?"

He nodded, a slow smile making its way across his lips. "Nixon offered me a job there."

A sly smile appeared on her face. "New Jersey, huh? That doesn't sound so bad." She placed a hand on the small of his back, pulling him closer. She leaned upwards to him, her lips hovering over his. "I might even find myself a man there if I look hard enough."

He chuckled a moment before finally sliding his mouth over hers. They clung hard to each other, deepening the kiss. Right as Winters moved to wrap his arms around her, they heard cheers from behind them.

"Jesus, about damn time," cried Luz. The entire company of Easy was lined up beside him, all chuckling and clapping. Most had cigars in their mouths, puffing happily at the sight of them. Some hooted, giving them the thumbs up.

"Pay up, Frank. You too, Joe, you ain't getting out of this," Luz said, holding out his hand. Margaret watched in shock as Nixon did the same towards Welsh, Randleman and Spiers. The men grudgingly handed over cash to the two devils.

Margaret cleared her throat, a hand on her hip. Luz and Nixon shrugged nonchalantly. "Not our fault they bet against us," said Nixon.

Luz nodded. "You'd think they would be smart enough knowing how close we are."

Randleman chuckled. "And you'd think George was smart enough never to use Maggie as a bet again." Everyone laughed at that, especially when Luz froze, remembering her last act of revenge. She cocked an eyebrow and smiled sweetly to him.

Luz motioned to Winters. "Sir, could you kiss her again for me, please? I just remembered one of the Gretas and I have a date." He took his money and scampered away.

They watched him go laughing, the men started to walk away back to the town. Winters smiled down to Margaret, brushing a stray hair from her face. "The man did say please." Margaret grinned as he leaned down to kiss her again.


	31. Epilogue

A week later, Margaret was just finishing up getting ready for the party. She had her blue dress on and just a touch of lipstick. Eugene's new friend from the bakery, Julia, set her hair earlier in the day. The young woman was shy to Margaret at first, but she quickly blossomed into a chatty and enthusiastic companion. _She complements Eugene well_ , she thought happily.

After Margaret helped Julia with her hair (which basically meant Margaret handed her pins here and there since she was useless when it came to hair), she was alone again to change. A knock came to her door.

Margaret opened it to find Winters in his dress uniform. The sight still caused butterflies to go through her, especially as she remembered Paris. She smiled warmly, trying to cover her blush.

Winters had to take a deep breath before he could smile. He figured that she'd be wearing her blue dress again, but it still didn't prepare him when she opened the door. Her beauty knocked the wind from him.

"Excuse me, but I'm waiting for an incredibly handsome officer with killer blue eyes to come sweep me off my feet," she teased.

Winters grinned, breaking through his reverie. He stepped up to her and pulled her close against him. "Will you settle for me instead? I promise to do more than sweep you off your feet." He leaned his lips towards her neck and nibbled.

Margaret giggled, swatting him away. "And you're going to have to settle for a lady tonight. Dresses and makeup and hairdos that take hours." She sighed at the thought.

He smiled again, and held out his arm. "Then we'd better make an appearance so that I can come back and undo all your hard work." She blushed brilliantly.

They walked through the town and towards the party. "I need to dance with Eugene before you start getting ideas into your head, Major. "

Winters rubbed circles on her hand with his thumb. "First dance. Eugene can have the first dance, then we can go."

Margaret giggled as they entered the building. Inside the large room was decorated with red, white, and blue balloons, streamers, and glitter. In the far corner, a huge buffet of food was laid out. She could smell something delicious from there.

She motioned forward towards the food, her stomach growling. Before she could go, Winters pulled her back and place a soft kiss on her lips. He looked her in the eyes before murmuring, "You're saving a dance for me, too, I hope."

Margaret grinned and kissed him again. "You get _all_ the rest." He groaned. "Yes, as my date, you are dancing the night away." She pulled closer, lips to his ear. "Give me a hard night of fighting, soldier, and you will be relieved." She took his earlobe into her mouth and sucked softly. She smirked before sauntering off towards the food.

Winters stood still for a moment, a glazed look on his face. Nixon came up to him, startling him with a slap on the shoulder. "You've got a handful with that one, Dick." He paused, taking a sip of his drink. "Damn, I'm jealous."

Winters chuckled before nudging his friend in the ribs. "I bet Nixon, New Jersey is filled with plenty of women looking for a great guy. Named Nixon at that."

Nixon grinned, nodding. "Yeah, but I need to find a dumb one this time. Clever doesn't work for me. They catch on too fast when I make fun of them." Winters laughed again, shaking his head in wonder of Lewis Nixon.

Margaret finally made it to the food, stopped along the way by many of her friends. She was just about to pick up a plate when Roe stepped next to her with Julia.

"Hey Maggie," he said, kissing her cheek. "You look great."

Margaret smiled at both of them. "You're looking pretty great yourself, Eugene. Julia, you look beautiful."

Julia smiled shyly, overwhelmed with her surroundings. "Thank you, Maggie. You're very sweet." Her accent only emphasized her loveliness.

Margaret spied their hands entwined. "Eugene, you know you don't need to honor your request for a dance with me. I'm sure you'll be much happier with Julia."

Eugene grinned. "Nonsense. I can't miss out on an opportunity to step on your toes."

The music began and Eugene held out this hand to her. He walked her to the center of the room, Julia waving at them. Margaret caught Winters' eye and he took the hint. A moment later, she saw him leading Julia onto the floor as well.

Although all companies were attending Sink's party, Easy company was surely the most rowdy and rambunctious. Their joy was infectious as they danced with local girls, drank away most of the booze, and laughed the loudest in their corner of the room.

Margaret couldn't remember a time when she was so happy and content. Her eyes scanned the faces of her family. Luz and Roe, her very best friends. Randleman, Perconte, and Popeye. Lipton, Malarkey and Liebgott. Nixon, hell, even Spiers.

Her heart began to ache when she thought of those that weren't here. Guarnere, Compton and Toye, torn apart, but alive. Hall, Blithe, Jackeon and Hoobler, gone. Muck, Penkala, vanished. And more. So many more.

Winters could feel the change in her mood. He came to her side and took her hand. He searched her eyes for an answer.

Margaret turned and smiled weakly to him. "Sorry, I'm OK. Just...remembering."

He nodded, understanding immediately. "We need to remember the fallen, love. We carry their memory."

Margaret nodded back, relief flooding her that he could understand her so well. "You are a good man, Dick Winters." She kissed him on the cheek. She was ecstatic to see his cheeks pinken.

He squeezed her hand. "I'm going to say goodnight to the other companies. Then can we go?" His voice held bit of a whine. It was nearing midnight.

Margaret laughed, kissing his cheek again. "When I'm finished, you will definitely know." He shook his head, but grinned, and then walked over to Fox company.

Margaret walked up to the bar. Luz was there, saying goodbye to Greta and Greta. The blondes each kissed him repeatedly all over his face before he finally pushed them away, laughing. "Girls, girls! There's enough of Georgie to go around!" He took each of their hands and kissed their knuckles. He looked to the one on the right. "I'll see you later tonight, Greta." He turned to the left. "Oh, sorry. Yes, the other Greta. I'll see you tonight." The blondes waved, blowing kisses as they left the room.

Luz heaved into the seat beside her. "Love is hard."

Margaret laughed loudly, bumping her shoulder with his. "You are too much, George Luz. How do you even tell them apart? They must be twins."

He shrugged, sipping at a beer. "Close. Cousins or something like that. They're wearing me thin. And I mean, _thin_."

She held up a hand. "No need for details."

Luz rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly. "As if I hadn't heard enough details about you and Winters to last a lifetime. I scratch my previous statement. Love isn't hard. Being the best friend to the one in love is hard. _Especially_ if your best friend is a broad."

Margaret smacked him and giggled. "You made plenty off my love life, George. How much did you and Nixon make with your most recent bet, again?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Six hundred bucks and a case of lucky strikes. It would have been more if you smooched immediately. Bet was down to the minute." She smacked him again but grinned. "So I take it you're not mad?"

Margaret kissed his cheek. "Who could stay mad at this face?" she marveled. He batted his eyes at her innocently.

They were just about to start a new topic when a tall, blonde man came to Luz's side. Luz looked the red-faced stranger up and down before he said, "Pal, this is a private party. And this lady is taken. Auf Wiedersehen." He gestured with his thumb to the door.

"I'm not here for the lady," the man replied with a thick Austrian accent. "Are you George Luz?"

"Pleased to meet you, No-Neck. Now skedaddle." Luz turned back to Margaret and opened his mouth.

Another blonde man, although shorter but much thicker, came to Luz's other side. "Are you George Luz?"

Luz's gestured to the two men with wide eyes. "Did you hire entertainment for the party, Mags? Because I have to say, you should get your money back," he said to Margaret. She didn't respond, only looked between the two angry men.

They each placed a hand on the bar, trapping Luz in between. The man on the right spoke first. "I am Greta's husband." Margaret saw Luz's eyes widen to saucers.

"And I am Greta's husband," said the second man. Luz looked back and forth between the two. Margaret swore she could hear him gulp.

He took a deep breath before smiling stiffly. "And what handsome husbands you are. Here, let me buy you a drink." And faster than anyone could say "grab fanny," Luz sprinted away and out of sight.

A moment of silence passed before all of Easy roared with laughter. Margaret felt tears in her eyes before placing a hand on each man's arm. She swore her ribs were cracking from laughter. "Thank you so much for that. It was truly better than I could have hoped for."

Nixon walked over with a case of Lucky Strike cigarettes. Margaret took it and handed it to the men. "Thank you again, gentlemen. Your work is done." They nodded, smiling to her. Across the room, she caught Julia's eye and winked. Julia laughed and winked back.

Nixon shook his head in wonder as Perconte and Malarkey came to them. "Remind me never to piss you off."

Margaret smiled sweetly to him. "Well since you paid up with the winnings you made off me, it was only fair to leave you alone, Nix." She paused. "This time." Nixon gulped.

Malarkey stared at her in wonder. "Maggie. I love you. How did you do that?" Perconte nodded vehemently in agreement.

She shrugged innocently. "Eugene's friend, Julia, mentioned that she had two brothers. I didn't want to waste an opportunity for revenge before we shipped out." The men howled with laughter and respect. Man, she was going to miss these guys.

Winters came from behind her and Nixon. "Does this mean the night is over?"

Margaret smiled, the evil glint in her eye still prominent. "Oh yes. We can go now."

 _Fin_.

* * *

 **Thank you for following the story of Dick and Margaret!**


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